


Firestarter

by GoodLuckCat



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Houen-chichou | Hoenn, No Romance, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Pokemon Journey, Post-ORAS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-04-13 22:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4539228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodLuckCat/pseuds/GoodLuckCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirteen-year-old Hayley is keen on becoming a Pokemon master. She didn't count on getting a rebellious fire hazard as a starter Pokemon, the class weirdo as a training partner, or a pair of crazy ecoterrorists as her personal rivals, but, well—what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? And in the world of training, that's starting to look very literal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waiting

Hayley had barely pulled her shoes clear of the locker when the metal door slammed shut with a _clang!_

"I changed my mind." Hayley looked over to see Connie's flushed, beaming face. Her eyes were shining behind her red-rimmed glasses and her normally sleek black hair was in disarray from her sprinting. She pulled her hand back from the locker and thrust a rumpled sheet of paper towards Hayley. "So, I know I said I really really wanted to start with a Pichu, but—look!" Hayley took the paper from her and looked it over, squinting slightly. It was a black-and-white printout of a round, blubbery seal with stubby paws and enormous eyes. "What do you think?"

"It looks… fat."

"It looks _adorable_."

Hayley frowned at the Spheal's vacant expression. "I thought you wanted a Pokémon you could dance with?"

Connie waved her hand dismissively. "I can always get one later. Ice-types do great in contests, but they're so rare around here, you know? So I thought I should get one now. Plus, out of the five appeals categories, Spheal do great in cuteness, and their ice and water techniques have beauty locked down, so I just need to pick one more to train it in… Maybe coolness? What do you think?"

"Don't you need to wait and see what your Pokémon is like before you pick what to condition it on?" Hayley handed the picture back and folded her arms. "What if you get a Spheal and it turns out to be super-dorky? You can't use it in cool contests then. And once it evolves into a Walrein, it won't be very cute anymore."

"He wouldn't have to evolve all the way!"

"Then he won't get strong."

"Says _you_. Glacia, Phoebe _and_ Drake have N-F-E Pokémon on their teams—"

"—Not their _main_ teams—"

"—but you don't see them going and losing, do you? If Sealeo is strong enough for Glacia, it's strong enough for anyone."

Hayley shrugged and went back to tying her sneakers, wordlessly giving up the argument. When it came to debating cuteness versus strength, Connie had picked her side, and there was no convincing her otherwise.

"Speaking of starters, what about you? Are you still waiting to hear back from the lab?"

Hayley groaned. She'd been trying not to think about that. "Yeah, I am. But by now, it can't be good news, right? I think if I made it in, they wouldn't have waited this long to tell me."

"You did fine! I'm sure you'll get in. We studied so hard." Connie's phone buzzed. She slid it open and began thumbing furiously at the keypad. "It probably just got held up at the post office. Who sends actual mail anymore, anyway?"

"The League, I guess."

"They're all a bunch of geezers. Anyway, don't worry about it! You'll get in, and I'll get my Spheal, and you'll get your Torchic, and we'll take out all the gyms and contest halls in Hoenn together. Think positive!"

She was trying. Really, really trying. But she didn't have Connie's gift for optimism, and the wait was wearing her down. She'd never been any good at waiting. Good news or bad, she just wanted to _know_ …

* * *

Or so she thought. But when she got back home and saw the envelope waiting on the itchen table, it took her a full three minutes to muster up the courage to tear open the top and pull out the crisply-folded letter inside. The official letterhead of the Birch Pokémon Laboratory jumped out at her as she unfolded it. She skimmed the opening lines, her heart beating in her throat.

_Dear Miss Summers,_

_Thank you for your application to the Littleroot Young Champions' Initiative. Eager new trainers like yourself are what make the future of Hoenn bright! Regrettably, our supply of starter Pokémon is limited, and so only a handful of applicants can be selected for this program. Your scores do not qualify you to receive one of the three…_

Her mind shut off. She scanned and re-scanned the last sentence, as though staring at it would make it change, but it still said the same thing: "Your scores do not qualify you to receive one of the three starter Pokémon."

Well, there it was, the answer spelled out in black and white. She wasn't good enough, and that was that.

The Littleroot Young Champions' Initiative was a program for new trainers sponsored by the Birch Pokémon Laboratory. It was an exclusive program that drew hundreds of applicants every year, but only ever accepted three. The way they were decided was through one of the most fiendishly hard trainer exams in the region—a three-hour test that featured questions on everything from type matchups and Hoenn history to essay questions on trainer philosophy, ethics, and the finer points of battle theory, followed by a practical portion with proctored battles using loaner Pokémon. Everyone who applied had their eyes on the prizes for being in the top three scorers: exclusive access to gyms and Pokémon laboratories around the region, a sponsorship to help cover the costs of traveling, and best of all, being granted a starter Pokémon from among the rare species bred by the lab—Treecko, Mudkip, and Torchic.

The last part was what Hayley had had her heart set on. Hayley was smitten with the Torchic family, an infatuation that had begun after seeing a Blaziken demolish Drake's Salamence with a fiery kick to the face during the Elite challenges five years ago. Hayley had followed the annual League rankings of Pokémon faithfully, and every year Blaziken made the top tier, their world-class punches and kicks and blazing fire techniques putting them ahead of almost every other Hoenn native Pokémon. With one of them at her side, Hayley felt like she would be able to take on the world.

The problem was that Torchic were rare—really rare. They were almost impossible to find in the wild, and outrageously expensive to buy from breeders, so the lab had been Hayley's only shot at getting one. And the problem with _that_ was that Hayley was terrible at tests. She'd always been a slow reader and writer, bad at memorizing facts, and when she was up against a time limit—especially with this much at stake—she would freeze up, stuck listening to the seconds tick away. She'd been worried she wouldn't even be able to pass the basic POKE exams she needed to graduate from her school's trainer program, so sitting in a classroom taking one of the hardest junior-level exams in the region next to a hundred egghead trainer prodigies had seemed out of the question. But Connie had pushed her. Connie had insisted she could do it.

So they'd started studying at the beginning of the school year, in September. The two of them had filled Hayley's living room with homemade Pokémon flash cards, encyclopedias rented from the school library, Hayley's old Taillow Scout manuals, and their combined collection of a decade's worth of footage from League tournaments and master-rank contests from around the world. By June the collection had taken on a life of its own, piles of textbooks and videotapes stacked to the ceiling and half-finished worksheets and dog-eared flashcards carpeting the floor. It may have seemed crazy, but Connie had made her think that she could really do it, that she had a chance…

But in the end, it hadn't mattered. Hayley had squeaked by on the POKE exams, and had at least managed to _finish_ the Littleroot exam, but it just wasn't good enough. She'd counted on the practice battle portion earning her back some points, but then they'd given her a Whismur that wouldn't stop crying long enough to listen to her commands—what was she supposed to do with that? It hadn't been fair.

Hayley's face burned pink as her brain started working again. Of _course_ she hadn't been good enough. It had been dumb to think she would be. And now she'd wasted all that time, gone up and embarrassed herself in front of everyone, all for nothing.

She was still staring at the letter. The words had blurred together, and her eyes felt hot and prickly. She stood up sharply, crumpled the letter into a ball, and jammed it into the trash can, knocking the swinging lid of the bin so hard that it did a full circle and swung around to hit her on the arm. So she wasn't getting a Torchic. Fine. She could still do this.

On to plan B.

* * *

Hayley didn't tell Connie about her failure until lunch the next day. She hadn't wanted to tell her at all. They'd spent so many afternoons cooped up in the den, wasted so many hours that they could have been used to do doing something, anything else, and she thought Connie would be bitter over all that lost time. But Connie, when she finally broke the news, just gave her a reassuring smile. "Oh well! At least you still passed the POKE. You can find a different awesome Pokémon to start with."

Hayley forced a smile back. Connie was so cheery about it all—of course she'd never let something like this drag her down. Then again, she wasn't the one who'd failed. But they were in this together, and so if Connie didn't mope about it, then she wouldn't either.

Besides, Connie had other things to talk about.

"Addie's getting a _Kalos_ Pokémon for her starter." Connie whispered the words like a spy who'd just uncovered a deadly secret, leaning so far over the table that her hair almost dragged across her plate of pizza. Hayley scrunched up her face.

"How? I thought you couldn't bring Pokémon from other continents into Hoenn." Pokémon from Kanto, Johto, and Sinnoh were okay, but it took a lot of money or a lot of badges to bring in one from someplace other than that.

"You can't. You know, normally. But Addie has, like, a Kalosian relative or something? So she got special permission."

"Wow." Hayley couldn't hide the note of envy in her voice. "What type is it?"

"Dunno. Something good for contests, obviously. Probably a Normal- or Fairy-type… And Clarissa won't stop going on about her _shiny_ Snorunt. I'm going to need something really amazing to compete with them."

Hayley looked across the lunchroom to where Addison, Skye, and Clarissa—the queen bees of eighth grade—were sitting and chatting. So Addison was getting a foreign Pokémon, and Clarissa had a shiny. From their gossip, Hayley knew Skye was starting with a Skitty, which sounded ordinary enough, but supposedly it had already been taught several flashy TM moves. Like Connie, all three of them were going into contests.

"Melinda said her brother's getting her a Bagon." Hayley gestured glumly at the crimson-haired girl at the table next to theirs. "It's not fair. I'm probably going to end up with a Zigzagoon or something."

"Don't think like that! I'm sure we'll both get something great." Connie leaned back and tapped her chin. "Hm… Do you think a Milotic would work?"

"You mean a Feebas?" Hayley asked.

"No, a Milotic. Duh."

"You can't just _start_ with a Milotic. You have to get a Feebas and raise it up first."

"Nuh-uh! Two words: Marvel. Scale." Connie ticked them off on her fingers for emphasis. Hayley shook her head.

"You know you'll mess it up if you make it evolve too early."

"Ugh, you're such a downer." Connie sighed. "So what about you? What was your second choice?"

"I don't know. Still a fire-type, I guess." It wouldn't be a Torchic, but it would be _something_.

"So Numel, Torkoal, Vulpix…?"

"I don't know," she repeated. "I can't decide—"

"Right? Me neither. I've gotta figure it out before I go to the breeder's next week."

Hayley squelched a small, jealous twinge in her stomach. What she was _going_ to say was that she couldn't decide until she saw what she had to pick from. Connie could pick out pretty much any native Pokémon she wanted from the breeder's, while Hayley was stuck with whatever she could get. But Connie's parents had money, and Hayley's mother didn't, so that was just how things worked out.

Well, whatever. She wouldn't let it stop her, and she wouldn't be bitter. She didn't need a fancy breeder Pokémon to be great. She'd do the best with whatever she got.

She just really hoped it wouldn't be a Zigzagoon.

* * *

Hayley's Plan B was the worldwide Global Trading System. Her mother had a Lombre and Wooper, Lily and Foley, left over from her own days as a trainer, and the two of them apparently… liked each other. A lot. Every spring Lily laid a clutch of gooey eggs in the pond in their backyard, and five or six baby Lotad would hatch out of them. Normally her mother made a bit of extra money by selling the babies on the GTS, but she had promised Hayley she could trade one for her starter Pokémon if she didn't get her Torchic.

So after school that day, Haley made another trip to the edge of their backyard, where tall oak trees filtered down the oppressive Hoenn sun. Underneath the trees was a large artificial pond. It was a few feet deep, lined with smooth white rocks and kept circulating with filters built into the bottom and sides. It was too clean and tidy to look natural, but Lily and Foley never seemed to notice the difference.

Speaking of… Foley the Wooper was relaxing in the pond, lying on his back and paddling himself around by sweeping his tail back and forth. Lily, though, was nowhere to be seen. Good. Hayley squinted into the water, looking for a telltale blob of blue and green against the plants and stones. And… There! Hayley thrust both hands into the water and grabbed hold of a round, slimy, squiggling _thing_. It was a Lotad, barely bigger than her fist. It squirmed and flailed its stubby legs helplessly as she brought it closer to eye level. A few foamy bubbles formed and popped feebly at its beaked mouth.

"Let's see… How big are you?" She hefted it in her hands, but it felt the same as when she'd weighed it two days ago. She frowned. "Aren't you eating?" Her mother wouldn't trade him until he'd grown to at least three pounds, but it felt like he wasn't growing at all. Maybe one of his brothers would do…

A loud _ribbit!_ from behind made Hayley turn around. Lily the Lombre was a few feet away from her, crouched with her back hunched and eyes narrowed. At the sight of Hayley holding the baby Lotad, her eyes grew stormy. "Oh. Uh, hey, Lily. I was just looking, I wasn't going t— _aagh!_ " A jet of pressurized water struck Hayley just under her left eye, knocking her off-balance. She flailed and stepped backwards to catch herself, forgetting that she had only the pond behind her. With a splash, she toppled backwards into the pond, landing ungracefully on her behind. She groaned as the water soaked through her jeans and shoes, narrowing her eyes at the baby Lotad she had somehow managed to keep ahold of in her hands. "Stupid water-types."

It spat a couple of tiny bubbles that tingled as they popped against her nose. Under her knees, Foley floated by on the rippling water without a care on the world, his face still frozen in the same dumb grin.

Hayley didn't know yet what kind of Pokémon she'd be raising for her team, but she was sure of one thing: she was never going to train a Lombre.

Hayley heard her mother's car pulling up the driveway as she re-entered the house, and she booked it for the stairs, but her wet sneakers skidded on the kitchen linoleum and dropped her onto her chin. She was still trying to pick herself up when her mother came in, laden with an armful of groceries. She saw the state Hayley was in and shook her head. "You were bothering Lily again, weren't you?"

Hayley took after her mother, both having the same hazel eyes and freckled, upturned nose, but Hayley was stocky where her mother was willowy, and her bushy red hair hung in tangled curls above her shoulder while her mother's was tightly plaited in a neat braid down her back. Hayley scrambled to her feet, her cheeks flushing. "I was just looking! You said I could trade one of the Lotad for my starter if I couldn't get the Torchic."

"I also said I'd tell you once they were ready to be traded away. They're still babies; you have to give them time."

"Yeah, but…"

"You know that it won't be good for them if we trade them away before they're ready. You can't rush these things."

Hayley knew that. She'd been telling Connie the same thing about evolution items earlier that day. But actually _waiting_ was different. Harder. "I know, but…"

"Hayley." Her mother stopped her and moved to sit at the kitchen table, gesturing for her to do the same. Hayley obeyed reluctantly, lowering herself into the chair. She squirmed in her seat as her mother paused to collect her thoughts, squeaking the wet toe of her sneaker back and forth on the tile. "If you're serious about being a trainer," her mother started, "you'll need to learn to be patient. Raising a Pokémon for battle takes a long time and a lot of hard work."

"I know."

"It's a big commitment, too. It's not like soccer or Scouts, where you can just quit and move on to something else when you get bored. You'll have other living things that will be relying on you to raise them and care for them."

"I only quit soccer so I could study. I still like it."

"But you still had to quit, and that's the point." Her mother reached across the table and laid a hand on her arm. "You can't leave this behind so easily, because it won't be just about you. It's a big commitment. You need to be sure this is what you want."

Hayley stared down at the table and chewed her lower lip. She knew that, all of it. Her mother was always telling her she had to slow down, think things through, take her time. And she tried, she really did, but… It was just so hard. This whole month, it felt like she'd just been walking in circles, waiting for something to happen.

"Can you at least scan them again to see if they're big enough?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"I scanned them this morning." Hayley couldn't stop a small grumble from escaping her mouth. "I'll check them again tomorrow. And I promise, I'll tell you as soon as they've grown enough."

And so, it was back to waiting.

* * *

The rest of the week ticked by. With final exams finished, Hayley had nothing to distract herself from the boredom of the sweltering Petalburg classroom. Why were they still coming to school at all when all they'd done since exams was read educational magazines and fill out worksheets full of crossword puzzles and word searches? She'd rather be outside, even in this heat.

The rest of the class was restless too. The classroom was abuzz with chatter about starter Pokémon, gym challenges and contest strategies, and their teacher could barely keep order. At one point he left the room muttering something about chalk, and the door had barely closed behind him when the entire classroom erupted.

"Argus' bite is getting really strong!" one boy, Caleb shouted into the din, adjusting his baseball cap on top of his messy brown hair. "We were fighting a Zigzagoon yesterday and he beat it in one hit!"

"Ha! That's nothing." Chad climbed up onto a chair and flexed his arms. "Nolan broke twenty bricks yesterday! I bet he can solo Roxanne with no problem."

"Meriel's finally got control over her Water Gun!" squealed Kei, her pigtails bobbing in excitement.

"Nacho's coming in from Kalos tomorrow!" That one was Addison, obviously.

"Yeah, so?" demanded Forrest. "My dad's catching me a Geodude in Rusturf Tunnel, and it'll be way better than any sissy Kalos Pokémon!"

"Slippy ate an entire ham yesterday!" Hayley didn't know if that one was supposed to be impressive or if Cambell just didn't want to be left out. And on it went, until Mr. Burke re-entered the classroom and everyone begrudgingly turned back to their worksheets.

All the talk of starter Pokémon worried her. Almost everyone else in the class either had their starters already, or they at least knew what they were getting. As far as she knew, she and Connie were the only ones who hadn't picked yet. But Connie would know what to get when she saw it, while Hayley… She'd been scouring the GTS every day before and after school, eyes peeled for any fire-types she could grab, but she'd had no luck. There had been a few up for trade, but each had been asking for something she couldn't give—one guy trading a Vulpix for a Scyther, another wanting for a Skarmory for his Growlithe. And of course, there were a whole bunch of jokesters asking for Arceus or Mew in exchange for their Slugma or Numel. She did see one Torchic pop up, and her heart had leapt into her throat, but it was snatched up before she could even click through to the trade offer. She hadn't even seen what they wanted for it. Probably something rare and crazy expensive.

It was on Thursday afternoon that Hayley finally got the news she was waiting for. She came home to a Pokéball and a handwritten note sitting on the kitchen table.

_Hayley—_

_You're in luck! Baby number three had a bit of a growth spurt. You can put him up on the GTS whenever you're ready._

_XOXO,_

_Mom_

Hayley stood frozen and staring at the letter for several seconds before she grabbed the Pokéball and dashed into the living room. Her mother's computer was set up there, an old but functional PC with a combination scanner/transporter hooked up to it. Hayley placed the Pokéball into the alcove under the scanner and watched the screen with baited breath as a progress bar appeared, filled part-way up, and then hung at 60%. "Come onnn…"

Finally, the computer beeped, and a screen displaying the updated statistics of the Lotad came up. Hayley barely glanced at it before pulling up the window for the GTS. The program was mostly automatic; she just selected the scan profile of the Lotad and the form auto-filled with all the information from the latest scan. Species, gender, level, special moves, even what sort of Pokéball it was registered in—it was all there. All she had to do was write which Pokémon she wanted in exchange. She put her hands over the keyboard, practically trembling with nervous energy…

And stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, staring at the blinking cursor in the blank text box, unable to type even one letter.

This was it. Really it. She'd been thinking about this all week, but now that it was time, she couldn't decide. Even if no other fire-types could hold a candle to the Torchic she'd built up in her mind, Hayley liked some over others. Torkoal were slow, Numel were dopey, and Houndour were mean, but Growlithe were fierce and loyal and Vulpix were incredibly versatile, if a bit prissy. But could she really risk picking just one to ask for? Actually _selling_ the Lotad would take too long—there was all sorts of red tape involved, or so her mom told her—so she'd have to trade it directly for her starter. Thousands of trades went through the GTS every day, but even then, she might be stuck waiting for weeks, even months for a trainer to come along with a Growlithe or Vulpix that they _just_ so happened to want to trade for a dumb little Lotad. And she couldn't make it that long. She couldn't be the last person in class to get their starter, couldn't be the last one to leave. Everyone else would go on ahead and leave her in the dust, and more than anything, she didn't want to be left behind.

What would it be? Pick a Pokémon she wanted and hope someone agreed to trade it to her before she died of old age? Or leave it up to fate, and learn to be happy with what she got? This was her starter, her most important Pokémon—she couldn't leave it to chance. But at the same time… She couldn't _wait_.

Hayley bit her lip and made her decision.

In the text box labeled "Desired Pokémon," Hayley wrote _ANY FIRE-TYPE._ The words stood out on the screen like they'd been written in bold. With shaking hands, she clicked on the button to send the trade. The form folded and blinked away, whisked off to cyberspace, carrying her future with it.

* * *

The trade hadn't been accepted the next morning, or the morning after that. Three entire days inched by as she wondered what in the world was taking the rest of the net so long—surely _someone_ out there wanted a Lotad? They were common enough in Hoenn, but they had to be rare in other places, like Johto, or maybe Sinnoh.

It wasn't until Sunday afternoon, when she returned from watching a movie marathon at Connie's house, that she saw the blue and white "Pending Trade" button flashing from the computer in the living room. She ran to the computer, barely stopping to kick off her sneakers, and mashed the mouse button to see the offer. The trade window came up, and she hardly had time to register a flash of red in the Pokémon species picture in the lower right before her pointer landed on _Accept_. The details were all there for her to look for, gender and level and specially-bred moves, but at the moment all she cared about was that someone had _finally_ replied to her posting, and that she might be seconds away from meeting her starter Pokémon—whatever it was.

There was a whoosh as the transporter next to the computer powered up, and a flash of energy as the Lotad's Pokéball dissolved into pure energy and was sucked away. She rocked back and forth on her feet, watching the monitor's loading screen give way to an animation of two Pokéballs passing each other in virtual space. Another whoosh and a zap, and there it was—a new Pokéball was sitting in the alcove of the transporter.

Maybe "new" wasn't the right word, actually. As she picked it up gingerly, holding it by the tips of her fingers, she saw that its red-and-white surface was covered in scratches and smudges, dirt and fingerprints. It had seen a lot of use.

She took a deep and steadying breath, clutched the Pokéball tighter, and stepped away from the computer. She overturned her hand and held her arm straight out in the classic TV trainer's challenge pose. This was it, her first Pokémon.

"Pokéball, go!" she shouted, lobbing it gently across the small room. It hit the opposing wall and fell to the carpet with a muted _thunk_ , and then everything was engulfed in white light. She blinked spots out of her eyes as the light faded, and—


	2. Spitfire

It stood on two legs like a human, but with a tapered tail, beaked snout, and odd puffy head that set it decidedly apart. It was covered in smooth red scales everywhere except for its yellow snout and a bare patch on its stomach. And it was short, standing not much taller than her knee, but it met her gaze proudly with its slitted yellow eyes, head upturned to stare straight at her. It looked kind of funny, she thought; somewhere between a duck and a lizard. The two of them stared at each other, frozen in time, until it finally folded its arms, cocked its head, and shot a puff of shimmering embers towards the floor. The embers disappeared into the shaggy green carpet and immediately, wisps of smoke began rising up.

Hayley snapped out of her trance and bounded over, stamping out the embers before they could start a fire. When she pulled her foot away, she winced to see small black scorch marks on the carpet—her mother was going to have her head for that. But she'd deal with that later.

With that crisis averted, Hayley crouched down, getting close to eye level with her new Pokémon. Its eyes followed her every move, narrowing more as she got closer. She reached a hand out to it, and it shuffled backwards, drawing its arms tighter with a soft grunt. She saw embers already building up again in the corners of its mouth. "Um, hey," Hayley said, trying to break the ice. "So, my name's Hayley, and I'm going to be your new trainer. Okay?"

It made no move to get closer. Its eyes flicked up and down, scrutinizing her the same way she'd studied it. It was getting its measure of her. For a moment she bizarrely wished she was wearing something more impressive than an old t-shirt and cutoff jean shirts.

"I know you—um, your species," she continued. "You're… a baby Magmar, right?" Blaine from Kanto had a Magmortar, she knew, and so did Flint from Sinnoh. She'd seen them on television during league matches before, shooting enormous fireballs and energy blasts that obliterated their opponents. They were strong, for sure; she hadn't really thought about raising one herself, but…

She spotted a thick black band around the Pokémon's neck—some sort of collar. From it hung a bronze-colored tag. Cautiously, she edged closer, seeing the Magby's flat snout draw tighter as she did, and lifted the tag between her thumb and forefinger to get a better look. There was something inscribed on it:

_BARRETT_

"Ow!" She dropped the tag as it suddenly glowed white-hot, and drew back a safe distance. The Magby's body had a slight glow to it now, and the air around it shimmered with heat, making sweat bead on Hayley's forehead. She placed her seared fingertips in her mouth and tried not to think badly of the baby Pokémon. It probably hadn't meant to hurt her. "Is that your name? Barrett? Well, you're my first Pokémon, and I, uh… We're going to be traveling together, fighting the gyms—I mean, _I'm_ going to travel, and I'd like it if you came with me…?" Mentally, she kicked herself. She'd been rehearsing her introduction to her starter Pokémon for weeks, and here she was rambling like an idiot. But the Magby's intense gaze was throwing her off; it hadn't broken eye contact with her since she'd released it. Why was it _staring_? Was it trying to intimidate her? Was it judging her? Did it think she was being too bossy by demanding it come with her? Or did it think she was spineless because she wasn't speaking forcefully enough? Could it even understand her? Maybe it was just nervous about being in a new place. Hayley had never been great at reading people, let alone Pokémon, and right now she was way out of her depth.

She held its gaze, trying to look commanding without being threatening, friendly without backing away. It shifted its weight a bit, puffed out its chest, and opened its beak—

—and spit a clump of glowing embers right in her face.

Hayley yelped and jumped back, swiping blindly at her face. The cinders stuck to her skin, burning like little needles. Her eyes were screwed shut as she wiped the embers away, but she had to open them again when she smelled something suspicious—smoke. The Magby had lit the living room curtains on fire.

"Crap!" Hayley darted to the kitchen, grabbed the fire extinguisher from under the sink, and dashed back into the living room. She brandished it like a bazooka and fired, dousing the curtains and windows in a thick white foam. She held it for several seconds before the stream sputtered and gave out, and only then did she release the lever and look around. The flames were out—but the curtains, windows, walls, and rug were all covered in a thick white paste. A disapproving huff caught her attention, and she glanced down to see the left side of the Magby's head and body also coated in white.

"Oops. Uh, sorry?" Wait, why was _she_ apologizing? It was the one who had just tried to set the house on fire!

As she stared at the mess and chewed her lip over what to do about it, she caught the sound of the front door's knob turning, and she winced again. Her mother had the worst timing.

* * *

_Loading information on: Magby, the Live Coal Pokémon_

…

_Magby is a fire-type Pokémon native to the Kanto and Johto regions. It is the juvenile form of the Magmar family. This Pokémon has magma-like blood that heats its body, causing its core temperature to reach over 600 degrees Celsius. As part of its natural respiratory process, Magby produces embers from its mouth with each breath. The healthier a Magby is, the hotter and brighter the flames from its mouth will burn._

_WARNING: This Pokémon is designated as a CLASS I PROPERTY HAZARD, as it cannot control production of its own embers and flames. Trainers should exercise caution when releasing this Pokémon indoors or in an area where flammable materials may be present._

Well, she knew that _now._

It had taken several hours to clean up the living room in the aftermath of the fire extinguisher incident, and by the time Hayley had made it back to her room, the sun was already setting. The first thing she'd done was take out the Pokédex she'd gotten along with her POKE exam results and scanned Barrett's Pokéball. Now that he was registered to her account, she could use the device to read all the information she'd missed in rushing to accept the trade, as well as general details about the species. Admittedly, these were all things she should have looked up _before_ setting an unknown Pokémon loose in the house. Fortunately, her mother had decided that leaving her to clean up the mess in the living room was punishment enough, and she hadn't done something drastic like grounding her or taking her Pokémon away—though she was "under no circumstances" allowed to release Barrett inside the house again.

The Pokédex went on to describe a Magby's natural habitat (volcanoes), type affinities (mainly fire and poison techniques), and diet (mostly dried plant matter, but they could digest pretty much anything). She stuffed the information in her head, cramming like she had for the exams she'd taken. To raise a Pokémon successfully, you had to know everything about them, and this was where it all started.

Finally, she switched over to the screen that displayed Barrett's personal information.

" _BARRETT"_

_Magby | Male | Level 9_

_Age: 1 year 3 months_

_Registered techniques:_

_Ember_

_Smog_

_Cross Chop_

_Registered to Hayley Summers on June 14, 2054 (Current)_

_Registered to Clancey Lewis on March 5, 2054_

_Registered to Francis Gardener on September 17, 2053_

_Registered to Dana Wilson on July 8, 2053_

_Registered to Hanson Fletcher on March 12, 2053 (OT)_

It was the level that caught her eye first, followed by the list of moves, but it was the long list of previous trainers at the bottom that made her stop. He'd gone through _four_ trainers already? Her eyes flicked back up to his level and age, and then to the battered Pokéball sitting on the bed beside her. Most Pokémon traded on the GTS were babies or newly-caught wilds, but despite his appearance and attitude, Barrett wasn't either. Four people, she thought, over the course of a year, had raised him, trained him, cared for him, only to trade him away.

Why?

What was wrong with him?

Her mind started racing with theories. He'd attacked her when she let him out—was he violent? Dangerous? Maybe it was the other way around; maybe he wasn't any good in an actual fight, and his trainers had given up on him. He could have been stunted—most Pokémon didn't stay in their baby forms past a year old. Or maybe his old trainers had just traded him away for bad reasons, or no reason, or reasons that had nothing to do with him. But what were the odds of that happening four times?

She held the Pokéball in her hand and stared into its patterns of scratches and smudges. It felt warm against her palm, like there was a heat radiating from the inside. Barrett had a story behind him. What was it? What sort of life had he lived before coming to her? What were his old trainers like? Short of getting psychic help, there was no way to know for sure—Barrett couldn't exactly tell her his life story, and she didn't know any way to contact his previous trainers. She'd have to figure things out with him step by step.

But… What if she couldn't? What if it went wrong? How could she be expected to raise a Pokémon that four other people had already given up?

* * *

The next day was Monday. Graduation was on Wednesday, and after that it would finally be time to leave. The eighth grade classes spent most of the day on the freshly cut soccer field, rehearsing where they would walk, sit and stand during the graduation ceremony. At least, that's what they were supposed to be doing. In the warm summer air, the sense of impending freedom was palpable, and the teachers had given up any hope of trying to control their hyperactive students. Kids yelled to each other from across the field, ran between lines and fidgeted in chairs while the adults looked on in exhaustion. Despite her pent-up energy, Hayley kept to herself, imagining that the small singe marks on her face broadcast last night's failure for all the world to see.

At the end of the day, everyone returned to their classrooms. The excitement died as they settled into their desks; smiling faces turned grim, and eager chatter turned to sullen muttering. It was time, finally, for the final dreaded announcement—the announcement of who each of them would be spending their next three months with.

Hayley's teacher was Mr. Burke, a short, squat man with thinning black hair and a patched tweed jacket. He always looked out of place in the brightly decorated classroom, like he should be heading lectures at a university instead of corralling unruly preteens at Pecha Lane Middle School, and rumors abounded regarding how he'd ended up here. He stood up and cleared his throat, patting a stack of papers on his desk with one hand. "I have here the list of who will be partnered with whom in their upcoming training _endeavors_ ," he droned, drawing out the last word with a cocked eyebrow and wry tone. For once, everyone in the room was on the edge of their seat, hanging on to his every word. "As you all know, partners have been selected based on your individual strengths and weaknesses in different sections of the POKE exam. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that these pair-ups are non-negotiable and absolutely mandatory for the first three months of your travels." There were a few scattered groans from around the classroom. Mr. Burke shook his head. "Now, now, I know this program isn't popular with everyone here, but it's important that each of you has someone to travel with. Can anyone remind us why?" For a few moments, nobody answered. "Come on, now, I'm sure one of you wants to get in a few more points towards teacher's pet before the year is over." A small smile crossed his lips as a couple students grumbled at the thought.

Finally, a hand went up. "Hoenn is a lot wilder than Kanto or Johto," said a boy in the front row. "We've got a lot more undeveloped land, so the routes are longer and more dangerous. It's safer to travel in groups." The speaker was Howie, a scrawny boy with neat white-blond hair, blotchy skin, and thick glasses. He'd been in the Taillow Scouts at the same time as Hayley, and he'd been kind of a nerd about it, the sort of person who studied the handbook cover to cover and recited obscure rules at everyone. He was still in the Scouts, even after most of their age group had decided to move on; it had earned him some teasing from the other students, but by the same token, he'd gotten the highest marks in the class in their wilderness survival modules.

Mr. Burke nodded. "Very good, Howard. Remember, the most dangerous opponent for trainers in Hoenn isn't gym leaders or rival coordinators, but the wilderness and the Pokémon that live inside it. There are far more trainer deaths and injuries each year due to natural hazards like mudslides, maulings and dehydration than due to crime or training accidents. The Hoenn Association for Safer Training therefore recommends pairing inexperienced trainers together, so that they can help each other out when danger arises. Since its initiation, this practice has drastically reduced the number of young trainer deaths and critical injuries. It seems that two heads are, in fact, better than one."

Hayley glanced around the room. Most of her classmates had stony expressions on their faces, their mouths set in sullen lines. Practical or not, the program was unpopular for a reason—nobody wanted to get stuck with someone they hated for what should be the most exciting months of their lives. A few people looked hopeful, though. Connie, sitting in the back right of the room, caught Hayley's eye and winked.

"Now, remember that the locations of each of your Pokédexes will be tracked by GPS, and if either of you travels too far out of the range of the other, someone will be sent to investigate. If your partner decides to quit traveling, you will be assigned to a new partner or group. There's no easy way out of this—so you'll just have to grin and bear it until your three months are up." With that, he pulled a sheet of paper from the top of the stack with a flourish and ran his finger down the list of names. "And without further ado, the first lucky pair is… Howard Durant and Gavin Clark." Hayley saw the two boys lock eyes from across the room. Gavin was a quiet, unassuming boy with curly brown hair. He had done well in the parts of the course that focused on battle theory, but terribly in wilderness survival modules. It made sense that he'd be paired with Howie.

"Caleb Nichols and Chad Bennett." The taller boy whooped and pumped his fists in the air before leaning across the aisle to give his friend a high-five. Hayley breathed a sigh of relief that they were out of the running—not that they would pair boys with girls anyway, but still.

"Addison Beringer and Skye Harlow." They were putting coordinators together—not a good sign. The two girls grinned at each other gleefully, and then cast a shared regretful look at Clarissa as they realized she wouldn't be coming with them.

"Campbell Osborne and Osmund Carter. Melinda Hathaway and Kei Bellamy…" Melinda was the girl who was getting a Bagon. She was known around the schoolyard for bragging she was related to someone from the Johto Dragon Clan, but as far as Hayley knew, she'd never given any proof.

"Corbin Fisher and Forrest Keyes. Caelin Marlow and Wesley Lawson." Hayley had been keeping count: there were eighteen students in her class, meaning nine pairs, and they were up to seven. The next set of names would tell her whether she'd ended up with Connie. Who else was left…?

"Concordia Harper and…" Hayley held her breath. "Clarissa Banks." There was an audible _"what!"_ and a bang from the back of the room as Connie slammed her hands onto her desk. Clarissa folded her arms, her normally-serene face wrinkling in disgust. Hayley shot Connie a pitying glance.

That left…

"Hayley Summers and Miriam Taylor." Hearing the name, Hayley twisted around in her desk and locked eyes with the glowering girl behind her. Miriam was slumped down in her chair, her arms folded across the desk and her chin resting on top of them. Her face was mostly hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses and unkempt black hair and bangs, but Hayley caught a glimpse of her narrowed eyes glowering through, and she shuddered. Miriam, with her slouched figure and permanent grimace, hated _everyone_. She'd moved here from Kanto several years ago and played video games almost constantly. That was pretty much all anyone knew about her, because any time someone tried to talk to her she would barrage them with scowls and insults until they finally gave up and left her alone. As far as Hayley knew, there wasn't a single person in the school who could stand her, and as far as she knew, Miriam preferred it that way.

Miriam raised her head a bit and squinted through her glasses. "What do you want?" she grunted. Hayley, too flustered to think up a response, clamped her jaw shut and turned back around in bitter, confused silence. How? How could she have gotten _her_ for a partner?

"And there you have it," Mr. Burke concluded, clapping his hands together as the last school bell rang. "I'll see you all tomorrow at seven-thirty for one last rehearsal. Don't be late!"

The students began to get up from their desks, but Connie beat them all, shooting like a bullet towards Hayley. Nimbly dodging the chairs and students in her way, she was in front of her in three seconds flat, where she clutched at her hair and gave an anguished groan. "Oh my Arceus, can you believe it? I got stuck with _her_." She didn't even try to mask her glare as she scowled across the aisle towards Clarissa.

"They were pairing the coordinators together," Hayley said, resisting an urge to add _"I told you so."_ They headed for the hallway, where the mixture of excited and indignant chattering from other students welled up and surrounded them. "I guess we won't be traveling together, then."

"Only for a few months!" Connie said, and groaned. "I _totally_ bombed the practical skills section just so they'd put me with you, too."

"Connie!" She'd wanted to travel together just as badly as Connie did, but jeopardizing her chance to get a trainer's license just to make it happen was on a whole other level.

"It's not a big deal. I passed anyway, didn't I?" That was a given—unlike Hayley, Connie was a natural at performing under pressure. Whether it was a dance recital or the biggest exam of her life, she never broke a sweat. If she'd been the one taking the Birch test, Hayley thought ruefully, she probably would've gotten in. "So what about your partner?" Connie continued. "Miri? Have you _ever_ heard her say more than three words that weren't, like, her yelling at someone?"

"I don't know," Hayley said, and her stomach sank again at the thought of having to travel with someone like that for _three whole months_. She and Connie had managed to pull the worst two partners in the class. "Maybe she won't be so bad once we get to know each other."

"I don't think so. You know she went off on a rant on Wesley second period last Friday just because she thought he was looking at her funny? She's crazy paranoid. You'd better hope she drops out or something soon so you can get a new partner."

Hayley groaned. "Can we talk about something else? You're still planning to leave on Thursday, right? Did you decide on what Pokémon you want yet?"

"Ugh, no, I haven't!" Connie wailed, clutching at her hair again. "Mom's bringing me to the breeder's tomorrow. They have, like, _all_ the Pokémon, and I just don't know… I have to hope I'll find something I like. Maybe I should do like you did and just leave it up to fate."

"That might not be a good idea," Hayley replied automatically, thinking back to the ruined curtains in the living room. "I'm not sure Barrett and me are going to get along."

"Oh, I'm sure he's not as bad as you're making him sound." Connie had been relayed a summary of the incident through text messages last night. "I can't wait to see him… We're on for tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. Mom says I can't let Barrett out in the house anymore, so we'll have to camp outside… But you can show me what Pokémon you get."

"If I can decide!" Connie sprang down the front steps of the school as they reached the door. "Okay! I'm going to do some last-minute research! Whoever I pick, you'll see them tomorrow night!" And she ran off, leaving Hayley standing alone in the doorway and fighting off twin specters of jealousy and dread.


	3. First Impressions

Connie wasn't at school the next day, but she didn't let that stop her from talking Hayley's ear off.

_Bzzt! "this minun just nuzzled my leg! aaaaaaaaaa!"_

_Bzzt! "have you ever seen a spoink up close they are SO SO bouncy"_

_Bzzt! "VULPIX BABIES!"_

_Bzzt! "omg hayley this budew I can't even"_

Hayley's phone buzzed all through rehearsal like an angry Beedrill, threatening to vibrate right out of her pocket with the force of Connie's text messages. Normally she would have worried about a teacher seeing and confiscating her phone, but all the adults had their hands full trying to keep the chaos of excited students from boiling over into a small riot, so she and her phone flew under the radar. Finally, around noon, the barrage of messages stopped, with Connie sending her one last text:

" _I got it! show you tonight!"_

Until then, Hayley would just have to sit and wonder what Pokémon was amazing enough to make Connie _finally_ make up her mind.

During a break in rehearsal, Hayley took the opportunity to tentatively approach Miriam. Maybe she was overblowing this whole partner thing, she thought; she wouldn't be so bad once she talked to her. But as soon as Hayley got near her, Miriam looked up from her Gameboy, swiveled around and fixed her with a glare so withering that all of Hayley's conversation starters flew right out of her head. She stammered as Miriam's scowl deepened. "Um, uh…" _Say something! Anything!_ "I… I like your shirt?"

Miriam dropped her stare to glance down at her shirt, an oversized black tee that had a picture of a Politoed with a sword and pointed cap squaring off against an Articuno, Zapdos, and Moltres. She folded her arms across her chest, blocking the image from sight. "It's from _The Legend of Zygarde: Lugia's Revelation,_ " she said, squinting through her glasses.

"Oh… What's that?"

"A video game, duh. It's popular in Kanto, but I wouldn't expect someone like _you_ to know about it."

"What—what's that supposed to mean?" Hayley demanded, bristling a bit.

"Quit acting like you're interested and just leave me alone, okay?" With that, she turned on her heel and re-immersed herself in her neon green Gameboy. Hayley wanted to call after her, but she was left fumbling for words. What had even just happened?

She tried to shove it to the corner of her mind with all the other things she tried not to think about, like why her new Magby didn't like her and where baby Grimer came from. But it left her mind pretty empty, and the thoughts kept leaking through. The day dragged on for what felt like forever, and she practically bounded out of her seat when the last bell rang, eager to go home and prepare for her sleepover with Connie.

Her mother was still adamant that she wasn't allowed to release Barrett indoors, so Hayley had had to improvise, setting up her tent and sleeping bag in their spacious backyard. She was hoping against hope to avoid a repeat of what had happened the other night; if Barrett set the backyard on fire, Hayley would probably be grounded for life. Maybe things would be easier with Connie and her new Pokémon around—they could give him something to stare at that wasn't her. And Connie had a way with Pokémon; she might be able to get him to relax.

She hoped it would go well. She _needed_ it to go well. She'd hadn't let Barrett out of his Pokéball since their fateful meeting—she'd meant to, but she kept chickening out. She knew she had to get past it, though. What kind of trainer would she be if she let herself be intimidated by her own Pokémon?

In the few hours before Connie got back from the breeder's, Hayley paced back and forth, worrying about everything. She tried to keep busy—she unpacked, checked, and re-packed her camping backpack for the sixth time that week, making sure it had everything she might possibly need, from a canteen to swimwear to eco-friendly soap. She ate up an hour kicking her soccer ball against a tree, hitting it harder and harder until it eventually bounced back at an odd angle and struck her in the nose. She looked up Petalburg Woods on the net and stared at the map until she saw a negative of the image against her eyelids every time she blinked. She was about to start running laps around the block just for something to do when finally she heard the front door swing open.

"I got my Pokémon!" Connie shouted from the entryway. Hayley ran to meet her. Her friend was beaming and holding a red and white Pokéball in the air.

"What kind is it?" Hayley asked, glad for the distraction.

"The _best_ kind! Want to see?"

"Yeah!—Um, wait," Hayley continued as Connie reached for the release button, images of the ruined living room coming back to mind. "Let's go outside first."

Outside, the sun was hanging lower in the sky, and the grass was crisscrossed with shadows from houses, fences, and tall oak trees. Connie threw her Pokéball onto the soft grass, and it burst open with a flash of light. When it faded, Hayley saw a tiny green and white Pokémon standing there. Its thin, twig-like body was no longer than her forearm, and it was cloaked in a sheer gossamer dress. Its head was proportionally huge and bulbous, looking like it should be far too large for its spindly neck to support, and it was enclosed in a green, helmet-like dome with a curved red horn sticking out of it. It tilted its head from side to side, observing its surroundings with its limited field of vision, and then shrank into itself and began trembling, raising its tiny hands to its mouth in a surprisingly human-like gesture.

"This is Marcella! Or, Marcie for short." Connie flung herself forward and scooped the Pokémon up into a hug—gently, of course, because it looked like she could crush its body between two of her fingers. "Isn't she adorable?"

"Wow," was all Hayley could say. Ralts were incredibly rare—they were picky about which humans they'd even show themselves to, let alone which they'd accept as trainers. Connie had never mentioned wanting a psychic Pokémon, but as Hayley looked them over, the pairing made sense. The Ralts, so terrified a moment ago, seemed to relax in Connie's arms, its tremors easing as it buried its face into her chest like a shy toddler.

"She's a little scared of everything right now, but the guy at the ranch said I could help her work through it. She's just a baby, so she's still learning to use her psychic powers, but she can do some pretty neat things already. You don't see the Ralts family in contests too often, but they can do some great stuff if you train them right. I'm thinking of teaching her this cool trick I saw with screens—once she's a little older, of course…"

As Connie gushed, Hayley took a few steps toward them. The Ralts seemed to sense her coming and flinched, clinging tighter to Connie's shirt. Connie stopped talking and gave the Pokémon a reassuring smile, running two fingers along her horn. "It's okay, Marcie, she's a friend! Say hello!"

Marcie lifted her head slightly, tilting back to reveal two eyes hidden under the green dome. Hayley felt an odd, barely perceptible pressure at the base of her skull. She'd never had a psychic Pokémon try to read her mind before—was this what it was? It was unsettling, sort of fuzzy and electric, like static from an old television set rubbing against her brain. It lasted for only a moment before it vanished, and then the Ralts straightened up a bit, looking straight at Hayley now but still clutching onto Connie's shirt. "See? She'll warm up to you," Connie said. "It just might take a while. Come on, I want to see your Pokémon too!"

Hayley rubbed her arm. She'd been waiting for this, but now that it was time… "I don't know. He's a little… You think he might scare Marcie?"

"They'll have to meet eventually. Come on, I'm sure he's not that bad."

"…Okay. One sec." Hayley darted off towards the pond and came back with Foley the Wooper waddling along behind her. At least if things went south this time, she'd be prepared. She drew the Pokéball from her pocket and inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the feeling of her stomach tying itself in knots. "Barrett! Go!"

The ball burst open when she threw it, materializing the Magby onto the grass. He wore the same irked expression as before; his arms were crossed, and the edges of his mouth around his snout curled down in distaste the moment he saw Hayley.

"Um, hi… Barrett." She'd hoped he would respond more positively to the name his old trainer had given him, but he only narrowed his eyes and huffed, a few small embers springing from his mouth and dying in the air. Hayley tensed, but kept going. "This is Connie, and Marcie…" By her leg, Foley let out a warble. "Oh, and Foley. They're our friends. I wanted you to meet them."

Barrett's slitted eyes glanced from her, to Foley, to Connie and Marcie, and then finally back to Foley. Target set, he trudged forward until he was face-to-face with the gormless Wooper. Foley was older and more experienced than Barrett, but Barrett had a few inches on him in height, and he seemed to tower over the Wooper as he leaned into his face and glowered.

"Barrett, be nice," Hayley pleaded, but the Magby ignored her, turning his head to the side and spitting a small jet of flames. They weren't big enough to set anything on fire, but they sent a message—he was challenging Foley. Hayley turned the Pokéball over in his hands as she wondered whether she should call him back right then. He couldn't hurt a water-type Pokémon that badly, right…?

"He's so cute!" Connie's voice cut through the tension in the air. Barrett broke his gaze and turned towards Connie, head cocked. "Oh, he's got a beak just like a little Ducklett! Adorable!" Connie dropped to her knees, placed Marcie on the ground, and leaned in closer to the Magby, ignoring Hayley's frantic gestures to stay away. Barrett eyed her suspiciously as she raised one hand and moved it towards him, but he made no move to either attack or move away. Slowly, Connie brought her hand to rest on top of his lumpy head. Barrett puffed a thin stream of smoke and tilted slightly away, eyes unmistakably rolling, but he tolerated her touch, waiting until she pulled her hand away again to grunt and shuffle a few steps back. "Aw, Hayley, I don't know what you were worried about," Connie said to a slack-jawed Hayley. "He's a sweetheart."

Hayley tried unsuccessfully to wipe the dumb look from her face, her mind reeling. Okay, so maybe he _had_ just been nervous when she let him out for the first time. She'd be nervous too, if she woke up in a place she didn't recognize with a stranger looming over her. Slowly, Hayley crouched down again, reaching out an unsteady hand towards the Magby like Connie had done. "Hey, uh, Barrett? I guess we maybe got off on the wrong foot. And I wanted to—" He didn't let her finish. As soon as she got within range, Barrett snapped to attention and whirled around, swiping at her fingers with his clawed hand. Hayley fell back onto the grass and pointed an accusing finger. "Ah! See, he did it again!"

"Oh, that's not nice. Hayley's your trainer; you should be nicer to her." But there was no bite in Connie's voice, only cloying sweetness. Barrett grunted again and rolled his shoulders, grudgingly letting Connie pat him on the head once more before shuffling off to explore the backyard. Hayley watched him go, rubbing her hand.

"That's not _fair_ ," she couldn't stop herself from saying. "Why does he like you? I'm his trainer."

Connie shrugged. "Maybe it's because you're nervous around him. You can't look nervous around Pokémon, you know. They pick up on it." Easy for her to say. Pokémon gravitated to Connie as naturally as people did; she'd been befriending stray Poochyena and Zigzagoon since she was three years old. Hayley wasn't quite so lucky. "It's probably fine. Once you two are used to each other, I'm sure you'll get along. If he really wanted to hurt you, he'd have done it already."

She had a point, ugly as it was. Barrett may have spat a few embers at her, but it had left her more startled than anything. If he'd wanted, he probably could have lit her on fire instead of the curtains. Even baby Pokémon packed enough of a punch to seriously injure a human if they tried. Maybe Connie was right; maybe things really would get better between them, if they just spend enough time together.

"So, hey, I want Marcie to get some practice in before we head to Verdanturf on Thursday," Connie said, interrupting her thoughts. "Want to help out?"

From there, the day became a blur. The sun sank on the horizon, turning afternoon to night as the two of them chatted and doted on Marcella. They laid out a small course for her consisting of twigs, stones, and plastic cups, cheering on the shy Ralts as she lifted and stacked the items with small grunts of concentration. She was shaky at first, barely able to hold a pebble off the ground, but Connie's encouragement and infectious optimism seemed to strengthen her, and by the time the sun had disappeared, she was moving the objects almost effortlessly. Barrett watched them from a distance, sulking near a tree and lighting fallen leaves on fire. Hayley had to check over every few seconds to make sure he wasn't going to burn down the backyard. She approached him a few times and invited him to join in their training, but he just grunted and glared at her until she went away. Well, at least he wasn't attacking her. Foley seemed more than happy to get in on the action, though, shooting down rows of cups with his water gun and warbling in self-satisfaction.

After dark, they lit lanterns and talked about their upcoming travel plans. Hayley was planning to head straight through Petalburg Woods and try for Roxanne's gym badge, the traditional first milestone for new trainers. Connie, cradling the exhausted Marcella in her arms like a doll and occasionally pausing to coo at her, said that Clarissa's parents were driving her and Clarissa to Verdanturf so they could sign up for the beginner contests that were held there. Hayley said that she figured the difference in destinations was the reason they paired coordinators and trainers separately, but Connie insisted she wouldn't have minded taking a detour to Rustboro, especially if it meant she didn't have to travel with "that prissy little brat, Clarissa." It transitioned into a discussion of what sorts of teams they wanted. Connie had laid out her perfect lineup to Hayley dozens of times already, and each time it was different. Today, aside from her Ralts, she wanted Roserade, Glaceon, Rapidash, Starmie, and Cinccino—Hayley knew better than to tell her that most of those Pokémon couldn't be found in Hoenn at all. Hayley wasn't sure what her own lineup would be, aside from eventually wanting to get her hands on a Blaziken; she just knew she wanted a strong, well-balanced team to take on the League. She'd figure it out as she went along.

Midnight came and went with the two of them debating battle and contest strategies, poring over the latest gossip from the competitive training scene, and laying out their grand plans for their own futures. Finally, when they were all talked out, they lay in silence on a blanket spread across the grass, staring up at the twinkling stars.

"I can't believe we're not going to see each other for three whole months," Connie said, her voice losing some of the lilt it had had all night. Hayley's heart twisted.

"I could go with you to Verdanturf…"

"No, you've got your own team to think about. I don't think Barrett would be happy sitting around and watching contests for weeks." The Magby had long since dozed off, and Hayley had recalled him to keep his embers from starting a fire while they slept. She'd have to figure out a way to deal with that while they were traveling; she didn't want to be one of those trainers who kept their Pokémon in a ball all the time.

Suddenly, Connie sat up. "Oh! I almost forgot." She dug around in her bag for a moment and emerged holding a small jewelry case. When she flipped it open, Hayley saw two bracelets that were joined together at a slightly misshapen Pokéball-shaped charm. "I made this in art class. It's a friendship bracelet." Connie lifted one of the chains out of the box, and frowned when the charm dragged the other one with it. "Ugh, the paint must have stuck. Hang on…" She put her thumb and forefinger on each side of the charm and twisted, and after a moment, the red and white sides separated with a tiny pop. Connie handed the bracelet with the red half to Hayley with a triumphant grin. Hayley lifted it up to look at it. On the red surface, tiny gold letters printed out the word _"Best."_

"I know you don't really wear jewelry," Connie continued, "but I thought this way—"

"No, I like it. It's pretty." Hayley the chain around her wrist. It fit her perfectly. Maybe she was just tired, but seeing the chain and lettering glimmer in the moonlight brought her a strange sense of peace. "Three months," she repeated. "And then we can travel together."

"Barrett should be used to you by then, too," Connie suggested.

"And I'll probably have a few other Pokémon."

"I'll be competing in Super Contests."

"And I'll have some badges."

Connie grinned. "I told you I'm going to get you into contests someday. We can even do a tag contest together."

"Only if you tag battle with me at a gym."

"Obviously. Tate and Liza've got nothing on us. Just you wait."

They drifted into silence once again, and soon, Hayley heard Connie's dainty snores coming from beside her. It was late; she knew she should get to bed too, but something inside was keeping her awake. Connie was so sure that they'd join up together again, put their old plans into action like nothing had ever happened. Hayley wanted to believe it, too, so badly that it hurt. But… Three months.

A lot could happen in three months.


	4. Countdown

The next morning, Connie went home to prepare for their graduation, saying something about needing to find shoes that matched their gowns—Hayley had never understood much about fashion and didn't bother asking her to elaborate. After repacking her tent and showering, Hayley found herself once again with too much time on her hands. She checked her supplies for a seventh time, made herself Pecha berry waffles, and then went back to scouring the net for articles about the Magby family. It felt like she'd already read every last one, but she pored through each of them again, just in case there was something she'd missed.

It was kind of weird, she found herself thinking, because she'd never really cared about reading or studying before. Maybe after cramming for months for her trainer's exams, she'd just gotten used to it. If nothing else, it was a good way to kill time.

Finally, ten o'clock came. Hayley's mother took a picture of her standing in her cap and gown by the front steps, completing a series of similar pictures she'd been taking since Hayley had entered kindergarten, and they walked the few blocks to Pecha Lane Middle School together.

The campus was awash in navy blue robes, the crowd of students growing thicker and thicker until they formed a sea of bodies. The graduation would be taking place on the soccer field, but right now the stands around it were empty, save for a few scattered parents. Everyone else was gathered around where the opening ceremonies would take place: a battered concrete practice field some distance away. It was ringed by temporary bleachers and a rusting chain-link fence, which students were crowding around, weaving their fingers into the metal links and standing on tip-toes to get a better look.

In Hoenn, most students chose the end of middle school as the time to try their hand at Pokémon training. It was the reason why Hayley's school offered wilderness survival modules and a POKE preparation course as part of their standard curriculum. It was also why, at graduation, the school invited accomplished trainer alumni to visit and give an exhibition battle to open up the ceremonies. It was a way to send them off in style, filled with excitement about their futures.

Hayley pushed through the crowd to get a better look. A trainer stood on either end of the faded white battlefield lines. One was a teenage boy with spiky brown hair and a _Mankeyz_ tee-shirt. He bobbed lightly up and down in anticipation, the laces of his tattered sneakers tapping against the concrete. The other was a tall girl with blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing dark hiking boots, jeans, and a black long-sleeved turtleneck. Hayley wondered at her choice of clothing—wasn't she hot?—until the girl turned to peer at something in the crowd and she spotted three deep, wide scars than ran down her right cheek and into the collar of her shirt.

Tearing her eyes away from the trainers, Hayley scanned the crowd for Connie and spotted her graduation cap sticking out, all done up with glitter and puffy fabric paint. Hayley slid through the mass of bodies and found a spot next to her just as the loudspeaker abovehead crackled to life.

"Welcome, new graduates and future trainers. Pecha Lane Middle School is proud to present our nineteenth annual Commencement Battle Exhibition." Cheers and shouts rose from the gathered crowd, and the announcer waited for them to die out before he continued. "This year we have two graduates from our very own school: Alex Stone from the class of 2051, a two-time challenger to the Ever Grande Conference, facing off against Gloria Hart from the class of 2050, who made a spectacular showing in last year's Sinnoh Conference semifinals."

They weren't the sorts of accomplishments that made headlines—but then, Hayley's school was pretty small, and as far as they knew, they'd never have a regional champion. Titleships were usually snatched up by graduates of the prestigious trainer's schools in Rustboro and Lilycove. Still, Hayley leaned forward in anticipation, eager for the action to start. This would be the closest she'd ever been to a high-tier matchoff.

"Each competitor will use three Pokémon, battling under standard Hoenn League tournament rules and regulations. Neither side is allowed substitutions. The match is over when one trainer has had all three Pokémon incapacitated." As the disembodied voice boomed over the crowd, a referee stepped up to the sidelines. He raised his red and green flags high over his head, waiting for the signal. "Let the match… begin!"

The boy, Alex, wasted no time in throwing his first Pokéball. A Ludicolo appeared in a burst of white light, dancing and bobbing back and forth in motions that mimicked its trainer's. The girl looked it up and down before throwing the Pokéball she'd selected.

"Pich!" A Sableye materialized onto the field. It hissed as it solidified, shading its eyes against the bright summer sun. Hayley saw that it was wearing dark sunglasses with a band that wrapped around the back of its head, which helped to shield it against the light.

"Linus, start it off with some rain!" shouted the male trainer. The Ludicolo croaked and shifted its steps, hopping in circles and shaking its maracas. The air above the battlefield condensed, and a swirl of clouds began to form, growing thicker and darker until they finally began to leak droplets of rain. Some of the students pushed against the chain-link fence backed away for fear of getting rained on, but the Ludicolo's control was on the mark: not a single drop landed outside the enclosure. Raindrops began to fall steadily, and the Ludicolo ribbeted with joy as they splashed onto its lily pad. The Sableye looked upwards and cackled at the darkened sky, tilting the lenses of its sunglasses slightly away from its eyes.

"Pich, close in." With another cackle, the Sableye collapsed its form into shadow and disappeared. Hayley barely had time to wonder where it had gone to before it snapped back into existence, wreathed in dark mist and standing safely behind the Ludicolo. Before the larger Pokémon could turn around, the Sableye leapt, landing atop the Ludicolo's half-filled lily pad in a single bound. It swung its head down into the Ludicolo's face and screeched, startling it briefly out of its dance routine.

The Ludicolo may have stumbled, but its trainer didn't. "Shoot it point-blank!" Alex shouted. The Sableye's demonic grin faltered and then disappeared under a huge jet of pressurized water shot from the Ludicolo's beak. The imp-like Pokémon was launched across the battlefield and spiraled towards the ground, heading for what would have been a painful impact, but it vanished into shadow again just before its body hit the ground.

"Confuse it." The Sableye re-emerged in the center of the battlefield, pulling its sunglasses what would have been the bridge of its nose. Its huge gemstone eyes shone, each facet gleaming a different iridescent color. It stared directly into the Ludicolo's eyes, and the frog Pokémon froze, halting its dance until the Sableye popped its shades back on and scampered away.

"Snap out of it, Linus!" The Ludicolo shook its head and began to dance again, but its steps were different this time, erratic and misplaced. It wobbled unsteadily before firing another water jet randomly into the crowd. One of the girls from class C shrieked as the attack hit her, doing no damage but drenching her hair and graduation gown.

"Shadow claw." The Sableye crossed its arms across its chest. The shadows on the battlefield darkened and sprang to life, oozing a malevolent violet aura. They rose from the ground and converged on the Ludicolo, forming countless ethereal hands that tore and scraped at its body. Its striped hair flew off in chunks, red seeping out from the spots where the hands had cut the deepest.

"Seed bomb!" the male trainer yelled, his voice rising a bit in pitch. The stem on the Ludicolo's head thickened and grew until a baseball-sized seed emerged from the top. The confused frog Pokémon dipped its head down and fired, but its aim was way off, and the Sableye easily dodged the attack with a lazy lean to one side. Alex clenched his fists, but all things considered, he didn't look too worried. Hayley saw why: the scratches on the Ludicolo's body were already starting to close up, the tiny trickles of blood washing away to nothingness in the rain.

Gloria had noticed, too. "Close in. Full assault. Don't let it heal up." The Sableye vanished and reappeared behind the Ludicolo once more. It leapt onto the larger Pokémon's shoulder, where it flew into a frenzy of claws and bites with its diamond-hard claws and teeth. The Ludicolo cried out and tried to shake it off, but its arms were too stubby to grab it, and the Sableye held on tight.

"If that's how you want to play it, fine! Knock it off with Surf!" In a moment of apparent clarity, the Ludicolo's eyes glowed a soft aqua, and the puddles on the ground rose and coalesced into a huge tidal wave. Hayley saw the female trainer gave her Sableye an order, but it was drowned out by the crashing of water. The supercharged wave crashed into the two Pokémon, barely affecting the Ludicolo but sending the Sableye flying. The ghost Pokémon landed on its back on the pavement as the water receded back underground. It let out a low gurgle.

The referee raised his flag on Alex's side. Gloria shook her head and withdrew the Sableye, exchanging its ball for another on her belt in one swift motion. "Knight."

Hayley barely had time to make out the figure before it charged at the Ludicolo. It was a huge red Pokémon taller than she was, with enormous pincers and a pair of wigs sprouting from its back. It had its pincers raised in an "X" formation as it materialized out of the Pokéball, and the last traces of light were only just fading away when it uncrossed them in a brutal slash across its opponent's torso. Before Hayley could blink, the Ludicolo had fallen over motionless, bright red slashes blooming across its chest.

Hayley felt her mouth drop open in a gape. The Scizor standing on the battlefield was every inch a warrior, from its gleaming bloodied claws to the deep gouged scars that marred its abdomen. It fixed Alex with a fierce glare as it shifted its stance, moving back into an attack-ready position.

She saw him bite his lip and mutter something as he recalled his Ludicolo, but his hand was steady as he threw out his next ball. A huge blue and yellow canine burst onto the battlefield with a howl, lifting its head towards the stormy skies. It was a Manetric, lithe and fierce, its fur crackling with sparks as the rain poured down onto it. It stared down the Scizor, narrowing its eyes and giving a deep-throated growl. The Scizor gazed back at it coolly.

"Thunder." The Scizor leapt out of the way just as an enormous column of lightning split the sky and crashed onto the pavement. The deafening crack it made resounded through the air, rattling Hayley's teeth and making her ears ring. When she blinked the spots out of her eyes, she saw the concrete where the bolt had struck burned black and smoking.

A small frown creased Gloria's face. "Air slash." The Scizor raised one of its pincers across its chest and held it there for a moment, waiting. Then in one clean motion he swung it down, loosing a shockwave that split the air and raced towards the Manetric. The Manetric tried to dodge, but the hit came too fast, and it recoiled with a yelp as the air blade sliced across its face.

Despite having landed a blow, the Scizor was at a disadvantage. Scizor were physical attackers, but if this one's metal frame so much as touched the sparking Manectric, it would be electrocuted in an instant. The Scizor and its trainer both seemed to realize it, both hesitating to make a move as the Manectric recovered.

"Manny, keep using thunder. Give it everything you've got."

"Knight, evasive maneuvers."

The Manetric took a step back and composed itself, raising its hackles with a growl. The Scizor shifted, bending its knees like a sprinter about to take off for a race. Another howl, and another sheet of lightning roared down from the sky. The Scizor dodged too quickly for Hayley's eyes to track it, seeming to blink and reappear several yards to the side. Just as it did, another bolt came down on top of it, forcing it to evade again. It went on and on until Hayley's eyes were blind with spots and her ears near-deaf from the thunder. Finally, a metallic hiss and shriek rose above the crashing of thunder, and the lightning stopped coming. Hayley squinted to see the red shape of the Scizor lying on the ground, its carapace burned and slightly melted from the powerful current.

Gloria grimaced. She recalled the Scizor, clasping its ball to her chest for a moment and whispering something before replacing it on her belt and sending out her next Pokémon. "Hermia, it's all you."

A Flygon emerged from the ball, keening softly. Its green body was long and graceful, but along its side ran several deep scars of the same type its trainer and the Scizor had. It watched the Manectric with eyes that blinked and flicked back and forth underneath pinkish-red shields.

Alex's face darkened. Hayley knew why—Manectric learned electric attacks almost exclusively. With the Flygon's near-immunity to them, his Pokémon would be almost useless.

"Rush it." The Flygon let out a low, haunting cry and began to beat its wings, forming a fine mist as raindrops hit them and scattered. It lurched forward several steps before taking to the air, zooming towards its opponent. The Manectric growled and jumped away. The Flygon sped past the Manetric in an apparent miss, but then suddenly pivoted in midair and slammed its long, muscular tail down hard onto the Manectric's back. The Manectric yelped and crumpled, falling onto its stomach onto the wet pavement.

"Manny, you've got to hit it! Try biting down on its tail!" The Manectric struggled to its feet at its trainer's voice, snapping at the Flygon's tail, but the Flygon was faster and spiraled upward out of its reach. With the Flygon out of its melee range and immune to its long-range techniques, the Manectric was a sitting duck as Gloria ordered a dragonbreath attack. The Flygon circled and dove, releasing from its mouth a stream of bright blue flames that hissed as they drove through the rain. The flames consumed the tired Manectric, and when they died down, the canine Pokémon had fallen to its side on the ground. The referee raised his flag to Gloria.

Both of them were down to their last Pokémon. Hayley leaned forward in anticipation, wondering what the final Pokémon in the fight was going to be. Alex ran his fingers along his belt and paused, muttering, before selecting one and tossing it onto the field.

It was a Swampert. Hayley marveled at its form; Swampert were the final forms of one of the rare Hoenn starters, and this one was a testament to why they were in such high demand. Swampert were usually well-built, but this one was especially huge and stocky, its muscles bulging under slimy blue skin. The Swampert's arms, strong enough to crush boulders, flexed lightly as it sized up the Flygon, and the fins on its head twitched. The Flygon bucked its head and keened, sounding a challenge.

"Sloan, ice punch."

"Earthquake," Gloria countered immediately. The bulky Swampert ran on all fours to the Flygon and reared up, one of its hands shimmering with a coating of blue ice. In response, the Flygon seemed to kick off from an invisible midair surface and circled higher, going from a hover to wide, lazy spirals. It bucked its head upward and gave a low, mournful-sounding cry, and the concrete under the Swampert began to tremble and ripple. The Swampert was knocked off-balance and lost its footing as the tremors intensified, becoming fierce enough to send vibrations all the way through the ground to where Halyey stood. "Good. Now strafe and use dragonbreath." The Flygon dove again, moving in to circle the Swampert. Its movements weren't quite as smooth as before, though; it seemed to be flagging a bit, its pivots and turns becoming wider and slower. Was it getting tired out already?

The Swampert hopped backwards and ducked out of the way of the Flygon's blue flames, its powerful legs carrying it to safety before it could be more than singed. "Sloan, knock it out of the air!" Alex shouted. "Use hydro pump!"

"Evade, Hermia." But the Flygon's dodge came a second too late as the Swampert inhaled deeply and unleashed a huge, rain-empowered torrent of water that hit the Flygon square in its torso. The Flygon squealed as one of its wings collapsed under the force, and it landed hard on the ground.

"Go in for another ice punch!"

"Dragon tail!" The Swampert ran in towards the prone Flygon, but just as it got within range, the dragonfly Pokémon rolled nimbly to its feet and whipped around to smack the Swampert with its tail. The Swampert, having reared up again for the punch, was caught right in the stomach and thrown back, staggered and gasping for breath. The Flygon stood tall on its hind legs, one wing still collapsed and a sheen of ice coating its side where the Swampert's attack had grazed it, but still exuding an aura of quiet power and confidence.

"Finish it off with a hyper beam," Gloria said. The male trainer's jaw dropped and he ordered a dodge, but the Flygon was faster than the winded Swampert and built up the charge before the amphibious Pokémon could even grasp what was happening. Time seemed to slow to a stop as the charge reached its apex, and Hayley stared in awe at the magnificent creature, its mouth brimming with shimmering orange-white light, ready to release devastation upon its opponent. Then the attack fired in a huge, blinding beam of pure destruction, hitting the Swampert dead-on and enveloping it completely. Despite its bulk, the Pokémon was thrown across the battlefield, tumbling across the pavement before rolling to a stop just outside the boundary lines. It laid there on the ground, its thick skin covered with burns and scrapes, its only movement being the slow up-and-down heaving of its chest.

The students stood in stunned silence for a moment, but then someone let out a whoop, and the rest of the crowd burst into cheers. The Flygon nodded its head and chirred lightly, acknowledging its audience before walking back to its trainer. It was visibly drooping now, almost swaying on its feet, but it still managed to lower its head so Gloria could stroke its long antannae. With nothing more to power them, the rain clouds started to dissipate, letting warm sun stream onto the battlefield once again. On the other side of the field, Alex muttered to himself as he recalled his Swampert and looked over its Pokéball, but then he clipped the ball back to his belt and walked over to his opponent for a begrudging handshake.

"Did you see that?" Hayley shouted to Connie beside her, more out of excitement than anything. _Everyone_ had seen that. Connie, however, seemed a little less impressed.

"I feel like that Flygon should've moved a little quicker, you know? That hydro pump should've been easy to dodge."

"Maybe because it was raining?" Hayley guessed, remembering the way its flight had slowed down over time. It couldn't have just been tired if it still had the energy to pull off a hyper beam. "It might've been a little weighed down."

"She should've given it a way to get rid of the rain. It look like she knew her opponent's style pretty well, so she should've prepped for it. A defogging attack would be both practical _and_ elegant." Of course, Connie was always framing battle theory in terms of contests.

Hayley turned back to the female trainer, hoping she could ask her about the battle, but she was already swarmed by a dozen students from across the graduating classes, who were all blurting out questions and looking upon her with awe. Tired it was, the Flygon still took to the crowd better than its trainer, crouching down and letting the students pet its scaly body while Gloria looked on with a small smile.

* * *

The rest of the graduation ceremony couldn't hold a candle to that battle. Hayley squirmed in her seat as the school principal droned on with a speech about futures and opportunity. Around her, her classmates were just about as interested as she was: Campbell was dozing off with his head on Caleb's shoulder, while Chad tied knots in the hair of the girl sitting in front of him. Miriam had pulled out her Gameboy from under her robes and was tapping at the buttons frantically, while Connie was reading something on her phone. Only Howie seemed to be paying attention, sitting up straight and apparently hanging on to the principal's every word. Hayley just replayed scenes from the battle over and over in her head and prayed the boring part would be over soon.

Finally, the speeches were through, and they started calling students alphabetically by name. Each went up to the stage one by one to shake the principal's hand and receive their diploma and formal trainer's certificate. When it was Hayley's turn to walk up the the podium, her stomach was in knots, and her limbs felt tingly and numb—not because she was nervous about all the people watching her, but because this was _it_. The papers the principal put in her hand made it all official, completing her transition from student to trainer. This time tomorrow, she'd be out on Route 104, putting everything she'd learned to the test. She'd have to start proving herself for real.

Hayley walked back to her seat in a daze, nearly oblivious to the audience's clapping and Connie's long, loud whistle.

Once all of the names had been called, another staff member stepped up to give the closing speech, which was about as exciting and memorable as the ones that had come before it. The school band warbled out a triumphant tune, and hats were flung into the air. And then, the real excitement began. Hordes of preteens stampeded from their seats to the exit of the field, heading back towards the practice battle range. Cries both human and Pokémon filled the air as pops and bursts of white light revealed dozens of her classmates' starters. The practice field was too small to contain them all, so they spilled into the spectator area, staking out spots on the grass and around the bleachers as they shouted challenges and boasts. After months of waiting and bragging, it was finally time for them all to put their starters to the test in their first official battles as trainers.

It was the most Pokémon Hayley had ever seen in one place. None of them looked very strong, but the variety more than made up for it. The species ran the gamut from common to rare, from Corbin's Taillow and Caleb's Poochyena to Clarissa's shiny Snorunt and Addison's… whatever the heck it was. It looked like a puff of cotton candy with huge eyes and a pink, slobbery tongue. It must have been the Kalos Pokémon she'd been bragging about; Hayley had never seen one before. Clarissa and Addison drew a lot of attention from the surrounding students, who oohed and ahhed over their rare Pokémon. Melinda, who did in fact have a Bagon by her side, was a close third, and even the quiet Wesley drew a bit of a crowd as he held onto the strings of a listless-looking Drifloom.

Hayley had drawn Barrett's Pokéball from her pocket, but now she was just rolling it between her fingers, hesitant to drop it to the ground. What if he attacked her again in front of all these people? Everyone would think she was a loser; Caleb and Melinda would call her pathetic, and Clarissa, Skye, and Addison would just laugh at her. Her cheeks reddened at the thought.

"Hayley!" She spun around to see Howie running up to her, his faithful Aron clanking along behind him. "Now that we're officially licensed and all, do you want to have a battle?"

"Um." Okay, she had challenged him to a future battle during last month's camping trip, in a fit of cockiness. But what could she say to him now? 'Sorry, my Pokémon doesn't listen to me'? "…I don't know if my Pokémon is ready to battle yet."

Howie frowned, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "Well, let me see them. You can't go into the wilderness with a weak Pokémon. It's not safe."

"I don't think…"

"If you're nervous, we can go easy on you." A small grin spread across his face, and her blush deepened. He knew he had her.

"No way!" she shouted, a stab of pride overwhelming her better senses. "Fine, we'll fight!" Before she could stop herself, she threw Barrett's Pokéball hard onto the concrete. "Go, Barrett!"

The Magby appeared in a flash of light. He squinted as he noticed his new surroundings, turning his head from side to side to take in the throngs of humans and Pokémon. Finally, he swiveled back around to Hayley and huffed, crossing his arms as if demanding an explanation.

"Uh, hey!" She forced a broad, hopefully confident-looking smile onto her face. _Please don't attack me again. Not in front of all these people._ "Are you ready to have a battle?"

At the word "battle," the annoyed look on the Magby's face vanished, and he snapped back around to face his opponent. Howie grinned and waved, his Aron trotting out in front of him. "Hi there!" Howie said. "You're going to be my first real battle? Should we get started?" Barrett gave a soft growl and spat a globule of fire to the ground.

The two trainers stepped back several paces, giving their Pokémon room to move around, though it was still a bit cramped with all the other students also setting up for battle around them. Hayley realized she was wringing her hands, and she quickly unclasped them and hid them behind her back. "Ready?"

Howie swept his hand towards her. "You can do the honors."

"Okay! Barrett…" Her fingernails dug into her palms as she remembered the list of techniques he'd had registered in his Pokédex entry. Ember, smog, and cross chop. She'd start off simple. "Use ember!"

Sure, he hadn't listened to anything she'd said up until now. But a tiny part of her had held out an irrational hope that once she put him into a battle, he'd stop messing around, get serious, and actually follow her commands. But that was stupid. No, of course he didn't listen, and didn't make any move to attack. He just stood there, scraping his claws against the scales on his chest.

There was an awkward pause as Howie politely waited for Barrett to make his move, but after a few moments where nothing happened, he straightened up and took the lead. "Ramona, tackle!" The Aron obediently lowered her head and scuffed her front foot against the ground like a Ponyta, and then charged forward.

"Barrett, dodge it!" But the Magby made no move to get out of the way, only spitting a couple of glowing yellow embers onto the ground. Hayley cringed; a tackle from a Pokémon as heavy as an Aron would be like getting hit by a linebacker. He wasn't going to take the hit just to spite her, was he? Barrett, _dodge!_ "

Just before the Aron's armored head impacted his chest, Barrett came to life, swiveling gracefully to the side to avoid the charge. The Aron skidded as she fumbled for purchase on the smooth concrete, trying to stop and turn herself around. Before she could manage, Barrett spat a small bolt of fire that hit Mona's backplate with a sizzle. The Aron gave a small sizzle as the spot on her carapace burned red-hot.

"Mona, stay focused! Turn around and go in for another tackle!" The Aron's back straightened as she heard her trainer's voice. She clomped around in a slow circle, looking Barrett straight in the eye before charging in again. Once again, Barrett sidestepped the attack and shot a small jet of flame that hit Mona in the side, throwing her off-course.

"Good, Barrett! Keep it up!" Barrett ignored her, blowing a lazy plume of smoke towards the sky. But the Aron turned around more quickly this time and came in for a third tackle. Barrett didn't seem to notice her coming until she caught him right in the stomach, throwing him to the ground. Mona circled and smacked into him again before coming to rest several paces away, looking up at her trainer with gleaming eyes.

"Good job, girl!" Howie praised. Hayley shifted her weight from foot to foot, biting the tips of her nails. That blow looked like it had really hurt, and Barrett wasn't moving. Was he badly injured? Should she call him back? She was reaching into her pocket for her Pokéball when she heard a grunt from the battlefield. Barrett was staggering back onto his feet. Howie whistled. "Wow, he's pretty tough if he can stand up to one of Mona's tackles. We've got him now, though. Mona, one more hit!"

The Aron pawed the ground and charged forward once again, and once more Hayley yelled for Barrett to dodge. He didn't listen, of course. This time, he planted his feet firmly on the ground, narrowing his eyes and crossing his forearms in an "X" shape. He wasn't planning to cross chop Mona—was he? Her armor was too thick; he'd only hurt himself. "Barrett, dodge! _Dodge!_ " But as the Aron readied to strike, Barrett lunged forward with a cry, striking the Pokémon right between the eyes. The force stopped Mona in her tracks and knocked her backwards. Mona squealed as she lost her balance and toppled over, her steel faceplate dented. Now marooned on her side, she flailed her stubby legs in an attempt to right herself, but she had about as much hope of doing so as an upturned Anorith.

Shocked that it had actually worked, Hayley opened her mouth to praise Barrett—but suddenly he bounded forward again towards the downed Aron. He planted one foot on her exposed stomach and leaned in nose-to-nose, sneering.

Then, he opened his mouth and exhaled a small, steady jet of flames straight into her face.

The Aron's squeals turned to shrieks as she writhed helplessly on the ground. The flames burned her faceplate like a blowtorch, setting it alight with a red glow. Hayley just watched, stunned into silence, until a panicked shout from Howie snapped her back to reality. "Barrett, stop!" she shouted, straining to be heard over Mona's cries of pain. This was getting beyond a regular battle; if she didn't do something, Mona was going to be seriously hurt. The Magby ignored her, keeping up his assault. " _Stop!_ " It was no use. She fumbled for the recall button on her Pokéball, but the sphere slipped through her fingers and fell to the ground. But Howie had drawn his own Pokéball, and the Aron dematerialized into red light just as Barrett's flames finally sputtered and went out.

Barrett straightened up, panting slightly. As Hayley knelt down to pick up the Pokéball, he turned around and looked her—slowly, deliberately—in the eye.

A challenge.

Hayley aimed the ball and pressed the recall button, zapping him out of her sight. She fumbled for words as she looked back up at Howie. He had released Mona from her ball again and was looking her over. She was breathing heavily, and now that the glow from the fire had faded, Hayley saw that part of her faceplate was warped and deformed, with a small hole about the size of a quarter melted straight through to her rocky skin. Howie muttered some soothing words to her and sprayed a potion on her burns.

"I'm—I'm sorry," she started. "I never fought with him before, and I didn't think… I didn't… Is Ramona going to be okay?"

Howie placed a hand on Mona's trembling back and nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, his voice thick. "Aron are pretty tough. Some rest and iron supplements and she should heal up fine." He was trying to make it sound like no big deal, but his wide eyes and unsteady hands showed he was just as shaken as she was. He recalled his Aron again and got to his feet. "That's a… hell of a Magby. Where'd you get it?"

"GTS," Hayley muttered, still staring intently at her laces. She realized now that some of their classmates had stopped what they were doing and gathered around, drinking in the aftermath of the battle. Her cheeks burned bright red. Everyone had seen. Forrest was snickering at her; Melinda was shaking her head in distaste. She swallowed. "Sorry," she whispered again, and then spun on her heel, dashing of through the crowd and away from the battlefield.

She almost wished Barrett had just tried to light her on fire again. Howie's Aron didn't deserve to be attacked like that. He'd challenged her to a battle—but she shouldn't have let herself get drawn in. She _knew_ this was going to happen. Maybe not this exactly, but something like it.

Hayley came to a stop at the top of a hill that was overlooked by a huge, shady tree. From here, she had a good view of the battlefield. Most of the students were still paired off in battles, though others were showing off in other ways. Chad had his Macop facing off against Caleb's Poochyena, while Caelin's Beautifly was blowing silvery gusts of wind at Skye's Skitty, and Osmund's Baltoy had Corbin's Taillow in the throes of a psychic attack. Off to the side, Kei's Azurill was spitting globs of water into the air that Clarissa's Snorunt froze solid with icy blasts of wind, and Campbell's Gulpin was showing off how many berries it could cram into its mouth at once. Connie and her Ralts were off on the other side of the battlefield from where Hayley had been, with Connie trying to coax Marcie into playing with Gavin's Shroomish. The Ralts was hiding behind Connie's legs as the Shroomish peered around them curiously, trying to get a better look. Well, at least Connie hadn't seen what had just happened.

They all looked like they were having fun. None of the Pokémon, Hayley noted sullenly, looked like they were trying to maim their trainers or one another. She was beginning to get an idea of why Barrett had passed through so many hands. How could such a small Pokémon be so violent, so hateful?

Hayley's ears pricked up at the sound of a tinny jingle playing on the other side of the tree. She leaned around the thick trunk and saw Miriam slumped against the other side, Gameboy still in her hands. It didn't seem like she'd noticed Hayley. Should she try talking to her? It hadn't gone well last time, but maybe… Hayley waffled back and forth for a bit before clearing her throat and going for it. "Um… Hey?"

Miriam tapped a button to pause her game and turned to Hayley with a glower. "What do you want?"

"I was just thinking…" All the Pokémon down on the field had trainers beside them, and Hayley didn't see any running around here. "Do you have your Pokémon?"

"Yeah."

"Can I see it?"

"No."

"Why not?" Now that the question had come to mind, Hayley was struck with a burning curiosity about what Pokémon Miriam had started out with, if only to know what poor soul was going to be suffering her company with her.

_Don't think that! Be nice._

"It's an annoying little shit. I don't want to deal with it."

Hayley's mouth dropped open slightly. What kind of attitude was that for a trainer to have? "You shouldn't…"

"Hey, how about you go bother someone else?" Miriam interrupted, hitting the button to start her game again. "I'm trying to get all the red coins in Voltorb Battlefield. It's important. You wouldn't understand."

Hayley sat there for another minute, watching the screen as a Lucario in red overalls ran around and jumped between platforms. When it was clear Miriam planned to keep up the silent treatment, she returned to the other side of the tree and plopped down again with a sigh.

She had to deal with her for three months. _Three months._

Between Barrett and MIriam, how the hell was she going to make it?


	5. Day One

"I'm going to miss you so much!" Hayley gave a small _hurk_ as Connie pulled her into a tight hug, crushing her windpipe with her shoulder. "I can't believe we aren't doing this together! It's so unfair!"

Hayley wriggled out of Connie's grasp before she could choke, her face flushed from near-suffocation. How the heck was she so _strong_? "It's okay for three months," she said, rubbing her neck. "That's not much longer than summer camp. It won't be so bad."

"Yeah, except you're stuck with Miri and I'm stuck with _Clarissa_." Connie pointed her finger down her throat in a "gag me" motion, before quickly glancing behind her to make sure Clarissa and her mother were still in the car and hadn't seen her do it. Behind the tinted windows of the minivan, Hayley could see Clarissa sitting in the middle seat, the back bench having been filled with suitcases and bags. She was staring forward with a stony expression, her hair perfectly curled and her arms primly crossed over a designer top. "We're going to be in our first contests together," Connie continued. "I hope I win before she does, because otherwise, oh my _god_."

Hayley sympathized. Clarissa wasn't exactly known for being modest. "You'll do great," Hayley assured her, laying her hands on top of Connie's. "You're a natural at this sort of thing." Meanwhile, she'd be lucky if Barrett didn't burn down their tent their first night out.

Connie beamed and clasped Hayley's hands, holding them up between them. "Thanks. I know you'll be awesome too." With that, she wrapped her in one more bony hug. "Keep in touch, okay?" And she darted off to the minivan, her sneakers kicking up gravel from the driveway behind her.

Hayley watched her go with an ache in her chest. She was right; this wasn't fair. Why weren't they allowed to choose their own partners?

Well, probably because if they were, people like Miriam would never be able to find anyone willing to partner with them.

_Be nice!_

Sighing, she turned around and went back into her house, letting the screen door slam shut behind her. She had to get ready for her own trip.

_Stay positive. You've been looking forward to this your entire life._

She clambered up the stairs and into her room to look her supplies over one last time. There was her backpack, weighed down with a sleeping bag, collapsible tent, and enough preserved food, energy bars, and Pokémon pellets to last her a week. For traversing the wilderness, she had a laminated map of Hoenn, a flashlight thick and heavy enough to double as a truncheon, and a fold-up utility knife with a dozen useful attachments on it, along with a first aid kit, canteen, toiletries, mess kit, compass, sunscreen, a waterproof jacket, a few changes of clothes, and anything else she thought she might possibly need. Everything was stuffed so tightly that her backpack was about ready to burst at the seams. Hayley was used to packing for camping trips and knew the value of traveling light, but this time she was going to be gone much longer, and there wouldn't be a teacher or scoutmaster there to loan her supplies if she found out later that she'd forgotten something. She had to be prepared.

She dressed simply, knowing that any clothes she brought along were inevitably going to get ripped, stained, and (thanks to Barrett) burned anyway. She pulled on a plain cami top and comfortable gym shorts, threw on a light button-down shirt to protect her shoulders from the sub, and then laced up a pair of sturdy hiking boots. They were already broken in from countless hiking trips, and they felt as soft and comfortable on her feet as any pair of sneakers.

She shouldered her bag and eyed herself critically in the mirror. Well, she didn't exactly look like a champion. Her image didn't ooze confidence or power, and she didn't have the cool, composed look that so many trainers carried. She just looked like… well, a flustered kid.

She'd just have to hope that all of the coolness and confidence would come later.

She bounded down the stairs again and ran into the kitchen, skidding to a stop just before she collided with her mother. Hayley flinched and braced herself for another lecture about running in the house, but instead, her mother just gave her a strange, soft smile.

"Are you all ready to go?" she asked. Hayley nodded slowly. A moment of silence passed between them as Hayley's mother looked her up and down. "Look at you. I know it's a cliché, but… my daughter, ready to go out into the world." Her hazel eyes started to mist over, and Hayley froze. Was her mother going to cry? She _never_ cried, and Hayley wouldn't know what to do if she ever did. Thankfully, her mother just blinked and shook her head, reaching into the shopping bag she'd brought with her.

"I bought you a few things," she said, laying them out on the table. "Potions for your Magby, a few doses of antidote, and Pokéballs for when you want to catch something else. And… this." She pulled out a small wrapped parcel, which Hayley took and unwrapped gingerly. Inside was a trainer's belt, made of a sturdy mustard-yellow leather with six metal clasps on the side for miniaturized Pokéballs. She unhooked the belt and wrapped it around her waist, pulling it tight so that it would stay up even without belt loops. She took Barrett's Pokéball from her bag and clipped it to the side, then diligently packed the rest of the supplies into her backpack. They'd help her out for sure, but they couldn't have been cheap.

Hayley found her own eyes were dangerously close to watering, and she masked it by wrapping her mother in a tight hug. "Thanks, mom."

"Remember to take care of yourself and your Pokémon," her mother said, looping her arms around her shoulders. "It won't do you any good if you burn out before you even hit the first gym."

"I'll be fine," Hayley said, her words muffled by her mother's shirt.

"I know you'll do great out there, Hayley. But remember, even the best trainers face a lot of hard times. You can always come home if you need to."

"I know."

She hoped she wouldn't need to. She hoped when she finally did come back home, it would be with a full set of six powerful Pokémon and eight gleaming badges. She hoped she would make her mother proud.

She hoped she wouldn't be a failure.

* * *

Walking the few blocks down to Miriam's house took about fifteen minutes. Waiting for Miriam to be ready took another _hour._ According to her very apologetic mother, Miriam had only just woken up (it was almost noon!) and still had to get her things together. Hayley could hardly believe it, given that she'd had her bag packed for weeks now and had woken at the crack of dawn to check that everything was ready, but then, Miriam was clearly less enthusiastic.

So she sat at the small kitchen table, her heavy bag beside her on the floor. Too full of nerves to keep her attention on any one thing, she let her eyes wander restlessly around the room. It was small—cramped, even—and every shelf and countertop was crammed full of knickknacks and baubles. There were Spoink-shaped salt and pepper shakers, a commemorative Indigo League plate bearing the image of Lorelei from the Kanto Elite Four, and even a clock styled like a Sentret with a tail that waved back and forth to count the seconds. To Hayley, it was all a bit cloying. Her own mother had never collected kitsch. She'd thought that kind of stuff was just for old ladies.

The Pelipper-shaped kettle on the stove began to whistle, and Miriam's mother reentered the room. She was a petite Kantonese woman with a thin face and dark lines under her eyes. Her smile was tired, but kind. She poured the steaming water from the kettle's beak-shaped spout into two tea mugs and handed one to Hayley. Hayley, not a big fan of tea but not wanting to be rude, clasped the cup with both hands and stared down into the murky water, her fingers drumming anxiously on the sides.

"So, are you excited to finally be going on your journey?" Miriam's mother asked, breaking the silence. Hayley blinked.

"Um. Yes… ma'am?" she tacked on awkwardly, feeling oddly formal around this woman with the house full of kitsch. "I've been looking forward to it for a while…"

" _Mom!_ " Miriam's voice rang from upstairs. "Where did you put my stupid _sunscreen?_ "

"It's in your dresser where you left it," her mother said mildly, apparently not at all troubled by the shouting or the clomping and banging of drawers that followed. She looked back at Hayley, who did her best to keep her expression neutral, but something must have given her away. "I know Miri can be a bit of a handful," she said to her, her voice almost apologetic. "She's always had trouble expressing herself and opening up to other people—our move to Hoenn was very hard on her. I think this trip will do her good." She smiled gently. "I appreciate you going along with her. It'll be good for her to finally have a friend."

Hayley didn't know if she was aware that her partner hadn't been a choice, and that if it had been, she would have chosen many, _many_ other people over Miriam. But it would be rude to say that, so she just nodded, still staring into her tea. "She… doesn't seem too excited about it," she ventured.

"She's not used to anything that's not dots on a computer screen. She'll come around."

Hayley masked the silence that followed with a swig of her tea. She instantly regretted it, drawing in her lips to hide her grimace. It was way too bitter. How did people drink this stuff?

A while later, Miriam finally came down, announcing her arrival with a stomp on each step that rattled the knickknacks on the shelves. She was wearing what she always did, baggy cargo shorts and an oversized black tee-shirt (this one had a picture of a Lucario in a red cap and overalls defending a frightened Chansey against a huge, spiny-shelled Torkoal), but her thick black hair was tied up in a ragged ponytail and covered by a ridiculous-looking floppy sunhat. She sagged under the weight of her massive bag, which was lumpy and burst at the top with what looked like toiletries, cables and foil packs of junk food. Her face had a smear of drying sunscreen on one cheek and a hardened scowl that said she would rather be doing anything in the world but this. She glared daggers at her mother, who just responded with another soft smile.

Well, standing around here wasn't going to make her any happier. "Are you ready to go?" Hayley asked.

"Ugh. If I have to."

And on that note, their journey began.

* * *

The first step was to get out of Petalburg City, which was simple enough. Petalburg was a sprawling suburb with houses popping out of thick trees for miles in every direction, but Hayley and Miriam's neighborhood was right by the central business district. If they walked the main road from there, it would only take a couple hours to get to the city limits. After that, they would travel through Route 104 and Petalburg Woods to get to Rustboro City in the northwest. That would be a long hike, but if they kept a good pace, they should be able to get there in a few days.

Hayley thought it was a pretty solid plan, but when she relayed it to Miriam, she immediately started complaining. "What? You want to go all the way to Rustboro already? Why?"

"Because… I want to challenge Roxanne for the Stone Badge?" Hayley cocked her head at Miriam. She hadn't thought she would need to explain herself. Going to Rustboro to fight Roxanne was just what new trainers _did_.

"But there's a gym _here!_ " Miriam protested, her voice practically a whine. "Can't you fight that one?"

"Norman takes off for the summers," she replied. The official reason was that he'd wanted to start spending more time with his family, but the rumors were that he just didn't like dealing with the hordes of newbies that cropped up every June. "Besides, Roxanne is the first gym in the circuit. Norman's a lot harder."

"So you want to go all the way through the woods for a stupid battle? Can't we at least get someone to drive us there?"

"That's not really the point…"

Miriam muttered sullenly under her breath, her words gradually tapering off into incoherent grumbles. Eventually she pulled her Gameboy from the side pocket of her backpack and flicked it on, falling into stony silence. Hayley eyed her watchfully, expecting her to trip over a stray rock or crack in the sidewalk, but she kept a steady pace, not seeming at all hindered by the fact that her face was glued to the screen.

As they walked onward, the buildings around them grew taller and sharper, going from rustic wood and vinyl to modern stone and glass. Bright signs sprouted like flowers from rooftops and doors, advertising Pokémon cafes, Pokémon grooming, Pokémon equipment—Pokémon everything. The road widened out, and pedestrians began passing by, first in ones and twos and eventually in a steady stream. Many carried backpacks and wore trainer's belts, and Pokémon mingled with them: Taillow and Wurmple perched on shoulders, Zigzagoon darted between legs, a Pikachu growled and sparked at another trainer's Cacnea in front of an electronics store, and a Marill nibbled on a small plate of salad underneath a restaurant umbrella.

The heart of every major Hoenn city was the business district, also called the trainer's district. The region had grown up around the sport and lifestyle of Pokémon training, and likewise, cities had developed with Pokémon centers, gyms, contest halls, and marts at their core. The result was a small, distinct ward where trainers could congregate, shop, battle, and rest away from the day-to-day operations of the regular, outside world. Every summer, new trainers surged into Petalburg's center, transforming the normally sleepy town into a vibrant, dynamic community of people and Pokémon. Every year for as long as she could remember, Hayley had watched them pass through, and she'd looked forward to the day she could go and join in herself. Now, that day had finally arrived. The thought sent a small tingle up her spine.

Miriam was less impressed. "Are we just going to stand here? It's too hot. I want to sit down." Hayley sighed and started forward again, waving for Miriam to follow as she headed towards her first stop.

The Pokémon Center stood out among the other buildings, its domed red roof and huge "P" sign making it an instant landmark. Hayley intended to make a quick stop there so Barrett could get a proper checkup before they headed into the wild—her mother's remarks about care had reminded her that she hadn't done that yet. Of course, nothing was as simple as it seemed. As soon as the automatic glass doors slid open, she found herself at the threshold of a whirlwind of frantic action and sound. The lobby was packed full of kids her age running around and shouting to each other, climbing on tables and chairs to make themselves noticed over the corwd. A boy and girl stood in the corner with a Wurmple and Surskit by their sides, red-faced and yelling so violently that it looked like they were about to get into a battle right there. A few feet away, another boy in a sideways baseball cap was trying to coax his spooked Zubat down from the ceiling. Two Poochyena pups pricked their ears up at the sound of the doors opening and made a mad dash for freedom, darting through Hayley's legs to the outside world just before the doors slid shut again. Their trainer ran screaming after them, nearly bowling Hayley over as he went, but he smacked face-first into the glass doors before they could open again and fell flat on the floor.

It was chaos.

"Ugh! This place is so loud!" Miriam yelled, only adding to the noise. She'd tucked her Gameboy under her arm so she could plug her ears with her fingers. "Why's it so crowded?"

Well, it was the start of summer, which meant the start of training season. Their school wasn't the only one that had just let out. Petalburg was an early stop for new trainers from Oldale and New Bark, aside from housing a sizable trainer population itself. She'd expected it to be crowded, but this… This was crazy.

Hayley pushed her way through the crowd and took a spot in what passed for a line—more like a straggling, winding assortment of trainers that wound unevenly through the lobby. The line was long, but it moved surprisingly quickly; the nurses must have been used to this kind of rush. After a relatively short wait, Hayley was whisked away to the end of the counter, where a frazzled middle-aged woman placed Barrett's Pokéball into a groove in the healing machine. They were amazing appliances, able to scan a Pokémon's condition, accelerate its natural healing process and restore some of its energy while it remained in a suspended state inside the Pokéball. They couldn't replace normal medical care for major injuries or illnesses, but they would heal up the bumps and bruises from a day of training in no time flat.

Hayley had only brought Barrett here for a quick scan, so she expected it to only take a few seconds, but a full minute dragged by with the nurse still tapping at buttons on her keyboard. She was frowning at the screen, eyebrows creased. Hayley leaned her elbows on the counter and craned her neck around to try and get a glimpse of what she was looking at, but the nurse shooed her away. Finally, she plucked the ball from the receptacle and turned to look at her again.

"Your Magby has a partial fracture along the radius in his left arm."

Hayley's stomach plummeted. "What?" she asked, the question coming out in a squeak. "I didn't—how?" Even as she asked the question, her mind replayed scenes of the battle from yesterday. When he'd stopped Howie's Aron from charging with a forceful cross chop to the face—that had to be it. He hadn't looked hurt afterwards, but…

Seeing Hayley's horrified expression, the nurse quickly added, "It's not a very serious injury. Just like a human child, a baby Pokémon's bones aren't as tough as an adult's, so they bend and break more easily. We'll splint up his arm, and as long as it doesn't take any further damage, it should heal up on its own within a few weeks."

Hayley's heartbeat was still in her throat as the nurse placed Barrett's Pokéball on a cart for a Chansey to wheel into the back room. Her own Pokémon had been injured, and she hadn't even known.

But then, how could she have known? She hadn't released him since the battle yesterday. She hadn't wanted to face him.

She was, maybe, a little bit scared of him.

But that wouldn't work. She couldn't hide from her own Pokémon. Whatever he did, they'd both have to face it and work through it together. She resolved then and there to start keeping Barrett outside of his Pokéball as much as she could…

…After they made it out of Petalburg, anyway. Right now, she still couldn't trust him not to go lighting someone's garden on fire.

* * *

The paved main road gradually gave way to gravel and then to dirt, and the clusters of trees and buildings disappeared into bright sunlight, a wide blue sky, and a wind-swept open plain. The air was tangy with salt, and to the east, the sapphire waters of the ocean glittered under the sun. Hayley loved this route; she'd been bused over it many times on the way to soccer games or camping trips, and the sight of it always meant she was on her way to something exciting.

And now, finally, she would walk the route as a trainer.

"Barrett!" Buoyed by the sight of the path ahead of her, she tossed her Pokéball into the air, materializing the Magby on the ground in the usual burst of white light. His left arm was in a small cast and hung from a sling suspended around his neck, but he hardly seemed bothered by it as he craned his neck around, sniffing the air of his new surroundings.

"That's your Pokémon?" Miriam squatted down to take a look at Barrett, pulling the brim of her hat lower against the sun. "Where'd you get it?"

"GTS." Hayley was pleasantly surprised that Miriam had asked her about Barrett at all; it was the first time she'd seen her do more than grunt at the subject of Pokémon. "Barrett, this is Miriam. We're going to be traveling together, okay?"

Barrett squinted his eyes and looked between the faces of the two girls. Hayley gave him a small smile; Miriam just scowled back at him. Finally he huffed, dislodging a few embers that thankfully did no more than fizzle out on the lush green grass, and toddled off to explore the area.

Well, he hadn't attacked her. That was progress. "What do you think?" she asked Miriam.

"Better than the dumb Pokémon they have around here, anyway," Miriam said, before catching herself and letting her face fall back into an impassive frown. She pushed herself back up with a grunt, swaying under the weight of her backpack.

"Are you going to let yours out?"

"Nope." And that was the end of that.

Hayley let the subject drop and rushed after Barrett, who had busied himself with a pebble on the side of the road. He looked up as he heard her approach, but quickly returned to his pebble when she knelt down to talk to him.

"Do you like it out here?" No response; he was ignoring her. So they were back to that. "I like it out here," she continued, as though she might bring him around through sheer persistence. "I like looking at the ocean. I guess you don't like the ocean much, though, since you're a fire-type, huh?"

Barrett turned the pebble over in his hand, inhaled, and shot a small stream of embers at it. They bounced off the surface, blackening the grey surface with soot and making it glow a soft red from the heat. Apparently pleased with his work, Barrett dropped the stone and trotted off to find something else to occupy his attention. Hayley sighed. Okay, there would be time for bonding later.

She headed off in the direction of the forest, keeping a close eye on Barrett as she did. At first she was worried that he'd run away from her, now that he finally had the chance to break free. But while he didn't exactly keep at her heels, he didn't stray too far; he seemed as drawn as she was to the looming forest and the patches of tall grass before it.

They had been on the route for maybe twenty minutes when Miriam started complaining again.

"Ugh, it's hot."

"My feet hurt."

"It's too bright. I can't see anything."

"This is boring."

"Ugh, it's so _hot_. I'm gonna die." She punctuated the last one with a woeful moan, clutching the sides of her sunhat. Hayley sighed.

"Fine, do you want to stop for a while…?" The words had barely left her mouth before Miriam plopped down on the ground, swigging deeply from the water bottle lassoed to the side of her backpack. Hayley suppressed an eye roll and instead scanned the surrounding area for Barrett, who was suddenly out of sight. She'd only taken her eyes off of him for a second; where could he have—

She got her answer when a Zigzagoon came yelping out of a patch of knee-high grass. Its eyes were the size of saucers, and the fur on its tail was charred and smoldering. It was barreling straight towards her, but pivoted nimbly at the last moment to avoid her legs, dashing to her right. Barrett emerged behind it in hot pursuit, far less graceful on his two chubby legs, but still determined not to lose his target. He spat another clump of embers; they sailed above the head of the Zigzagoon, but caused it to freeze and cringe. While it was stunned, he closed in, raising his good arm for a karate chop to the face.

And to think, Hayley had been worried that her first Pokémon wouldn't be a strong fighter. This was only the second time she'd seen Barrett fight, but he was clearly born for it, throwing himself into his attacks with a frightening intensity. If she could just get him to listen to her, they'd be able to blaze through the gym circuit with no problem—

A frightened squeal brought her back to the present, and she glanced down to see the Zigzagoon cowering, paws over its face. Barrett leaned over it, inhaling deeply. Hayley realized with a sick jolt that he was about to do the same thing to the Zigzagoon as he'd done to Howie's Aron. "Barrett! Stop that!" she shouted. He ignored her, wisps of flame blooming at his mouth. Frantically, she fumbled for her Pokéball, unclipping it from her waist and aiming just as the stream of fire hit the Zigzagoon in the face. She pressed the button, and he was recalled into a beam of red light, leaving the Zigzagoon to yelp and roll around on the grass to extinguish the flames.

Guiltily, Hayley crept up towards the Zigzagoon, drawing a potion from her bag. "Hey," she said, making it snap to attention. It saw her and flattened its ears against its head, crouching low to the ground with a whine. A patch of fur on the left side of its face was charred black, but she couldn't tell if it had burned through to the skin or not. "I'm sorry about that. I can help you—" But as she reached out her hand, the Zigzagoon sprang to its feet and, with a jump and a twist, it bounded off back into the tall grass before she could even blink.

Hayley watched it go, and then turned her attention back to the Pokéball in her hands. It was several minutes before she came to a decision. Slowly, she lobbed the ball to the ground in a gentle arc, revealing a stormy-faced Barrett. His good arm was crossed over his bad one on his chest, and sparks leapt around his beak as he gave a soft growl. She knelt down to his level, though she kept her legs tensed in case she had to jump back to avoid a barrage of embers.

"I know you can understand me," she said. Close enough to it, anyway—Pokémon had amazing intuition, and with Barrett having passed through so many trainers before, he'd surely learned how to interpret human words and actions. Barrett grunted, huffing a small plume of smoke into her face. Her eyes and nose itched, but she stayed firm. "Barrett," she tried again, her voice harsher this time. "Listen to me. You _can't_ keep doing that, okay?" He scoffed and turned away, kicking at the grass. Frustrated, Hayley pulled out his Pokéball in one hand and tapped the center button, enlarging it. That got his attention—he swiveled around and narrowed his eyes at the ball, hissing. "Yeah, you don't want to go back in here, do you?" she said, a goading note seeping into her words. _Now_ he was listening. "You know I can call you back any time I want. And the next time you ignore me when I tell you to stop fighting, I'll put you back in here and won't let you out for a _week_."

His eyes widened momentarily, but he quickly turned away, letting out a huff. Hayley pushed again. "We'll be all the way in the next town before you see daylight again. Is that what you want?" At that, he growled again and pivoted, lunging at the ball. She hopped out of the way and lifted her arm, holding it out of his reach. "No attacking me, either." He swiped fruitlessly at her arm, but she moved her finger towards the button again, and he froze. They stared each other down, Hayley giving a glower that could match Miriam's best. Finally, Barrett broke eye contact and turned away, spitting a clump of embers on the ground. He plodded off in the other direction, his back stiff and his eyes still stealing glances at the Pokéball over his shoulder. Hayley waited until he was a good distance away before letting out her breath and sagging onto the ground.

Threats… They weren't how she wanted to communicate with him. But they had to start somewhere, and he wouldn't listen to anything else she said. What else could she do? Hopefully he'd come around eventually and stop hating her, so that this would be only temporary. Especially because she really didn't want to be forced to deliver on her threat—she'd just sworn to herself that she'd spend as much time with him as possible, after all.

Hayley pushed herself up again and returned to Miriam, expecting to receive some kind of judgment from her, but Miriam was engrossed in her game again. She didn't even look up until Hayley cleared her throat.

"Ugh. Are we going again?"

"Yeah. Come on, at least it'll be shady once we hit the forest."

Maybe if she kept trying, she'd find a way to get Miriam to listen to her too.

* * *

Unfortunately, Miriam's low endurance meant they had to stop several more times throughout the day. By the time the sun was setting, they'd only made it halfway across the route. The forest still loomed off in the distance.

At least Miriam had grown tired enough that she'd stopped whining, only giving occasional grunts and grumbles when they had to walk over small hills or cross through patches of tall grass. Hayley mostly ignored her in favor of keeping an eye on Barrett. He'd fought maybe a dozen more Pokémon since the Zigzagoon, but he hadn't tried to bring any more of them to a brutal end (well, there _was_ one Wurmple he'd tried to burn to a crisp when he thought she hadn't been looking, but a yell and a threatening shake of his ball brought a stop to that soon enough). She hadn't tried commanding him in battle yet, seeing as he was doing well enough on his own. Instead, she stood back and watched him intently, trying to get a sense of his fighting style. He had three different fire techniques that she could see: aside from his cone of embers, there was his tiny, sustained, blowtorch-like flame that was probably the beginnings of a flamethrower attack, and occasionally he shot fiery gobs that burst apart on impact, which could have been the start of flame burst. He wouldn't master either move without a lot more practice and experience, but it was exciting to see that he knew the basic technique behind them. Once his body caught up with him, he'd be a skillful and versatile fighter.

They built a small fire pit and set up their tents for the night—"they", of course, meaning that Hayley did all the work while Miriam ignored her on her game. She didn't mind too much, since Miriam would probably do it wrong and slow her down anyway, but it would've been nice for her to at least offer… She arranged the sticks carefully inside the fire pit and instructed Barrett to light them. He gave her a sideways glance, probably suspicious that he was being asked to _start_ a fire for once, but quickly acquiesced and blew a mouthful of embers onto the pile. The embers caught, and the fire burned to life, crackling healthily.

They had a small, quiet meal of energy bars and dehydrated noodles boiled in water from a nearby stream. The night was clear, and the stars shone as they came out one by one. Hayley felt at peace as she finished her food and laid on her back to watch the sky, fiddling with Connie's bracelet around her wrist. As far as first days went, it hadn't been too bad. Barrett was still disturbingly violent, and Miriam was still annoying, but they were both getting a little better, even if it was only due to threats and fatigue, respectively. She felt cautiously optimistic—things were looking up.

When she felt her eyelids starting to droop, she got back to her feet and gathered up her things to head into her tent for the night. Barrett was sitting on one of the stones circling the now-dying fire, watching the embers intently. He made a small noise of protest when she scooped up a shovelful of dirt and dumped it into the pit, extinguishing the fire. "Sorry," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "It was a good fire, but it's not safe to leave it going all night."

Speaking of things that she couldn't leave unsupervised… Hayley drew Barrett's Pokéball from her belt and clicked the button to enlarge it. She aimed it at Barrett, who grunted and hopped off his rock, narrowing his eyes. "Sorry," she said. "I'm not punishing you, but I can't leave you out all night. You might start a fire." He grumbled and huffed, still glaring. "You spit out embers when you breathe. It's not safe."

His scowl deepened, and he turned his back on her. Hayley bit her lip. She knew he felt betrayed, like she was breaking her promise—she hadn't promised not to put him in his ball _ever again_ , but maybe that was how he had taken it. But she couldn't just leave him—she might wake up in the morning to burning tents and a pile of charred Wurmple and Zigzagoon corpses. "Sorry," she said again. "Once you prove that you can behave yourself, I'll let you stay out overnight. Until then—I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

Her last glimpse of him before the red light enveloped him was his curled lip and angry, squinting eyes. She sighed. Hopefully she hadn't just lost the tiny bit of progress they'd made. Well, it was a problem for tomorrow.

She thought she would have a hard time quieting her mind enough to fall asleep, but the stress of the day had taken its toll on her, and as soon as she crawled into her sleeping bag, she fell into a deep sleep.


	6. Showdown

Hayley's watch alarm woke her early the next morning. She sat up, yawned, and started to stretch, but the movement was cut short as she felt an angry pull and sting across the skin on the back of her neck. She groaned—sunburn. She'd been sure to slather on plenty of sunscreen before leaving yesterday, but she must have sweated it off. Her pale skin had always burned far too easily.

After a bit of probing, she found that patches of skin across her nose and cheeks had also grown pink and stiff, but that seemed to be the extent of it. She sighed as she reached into her bag for her sunscreen and squeezed a dollop into her hands, applying it liberally and giving special care to the back of her neck. She didn't want to get sunburn on top of sunburn.

Once she was dressed and fully protected from the sun, she unzipped her tent flap and stepped outside. The air was still and cool, and the sun was climbing slowly in the sky, the last bits of pink and orange from the sunrise gradually fading away. She settled onto the ground and unwrapped a granola bar, chewing it silently as she took in the scene. She'd always loved mornings in the wilderness. They were so peaceful.

Well, it couldn't last. After finishing her breakfast and stowing the empty wrapper in the trash compartment of her bag, Hayley plucked Barrett's ball from her belt and lobbed it gently to the ground, bracing herself for the Magby's awful temper. Sure enough, his eyes were narrow and sullen as he materialized, his shoulders stiff with agitation.

"Hey," she said. He snorted. Choosing to ignore his mood, Hayley pulled a small round bowl out of her backpack, along with a bag of dried brown pellets. It was Pokémon food, formulated to be edible to almost any species and packed full of the nutrients a Pokémon—especially a baby one—needed to grow. When she knelt to offer the filled bowl to Barrett, though, he just sniffed it and shuffled back a few steps, fixing her with a hard stare.

"It's food. It's good for you," she said. He put his good hand on his hip and turned away. She started to move closer, but he gave a low growl that froze her in place. She bit her lip. "Look, I know you're upset I had to put you back in your ball last night, but you have to understand. I couldn't leave you out; it wasn't safe." No answer. "You could've gotten hurt, or wandered off, or started a fire…" He was silent as she spoke, but his back and neck twitched with each word she spoke. She sighed. "I'm sorry—"

As the words left her mouth, he sprang to life, pivoting to face her with his mouth twisted into a snarl. The growl he was giving grew deeper, and embers leapt from his mouth and nostrils. Hayley jumped backwards, dropping the bowl on the ground and scrambling to her feet. He watched her go with his beady eyes, the claws on his right hand flexing as he stared her down. She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay. Okay. I get it. I'm sor—I'll leave you alone."

She felt his eyes still on her as she walked back to the tents. Dammit; he really was angry at her. It wasn't her fault—it was _his_ fault for being so volatile and wild that she couldn't trust him not to get into trouble when she wasn't looking. But of course, he didn't see it that way.

He'd come around, she told herself. Like Connie said, they just weren't used to each other yet. Once they'd spent some more time together… He'd get better, wouldn't he? He had to.

_Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that._

Anxious for a distraction, Hayley glanced over at Miriam's tent, still zipped up and silent. Miriam was probably still asleep. She wondered briefly if she should find her Pokéball and let her Pokémon out to eat as well, but she didn't know where she'd stashed it—she hadn't been wearing a trainer's belt—and she still didn't know what kind of Pokémon it was. Since she was just a beginning trainer, it _probably_ wasn't an Onix or anything, but…

She settled for waking Miriam up instead. Hayley ambled over to the tent, unzipped it partway, and poked her head inside. Somehow, even though they'd only been here for one night, the floor of the tent was already littered with discarded clothes, cables, and other clutter. Miriam was sprawled on top of her sleeping bag in her tee-shirt and a pair of boxer-style shorts, snoring softly. Bulky headphones rested over her ears; Hayley could hear a few faint strains of music drifting from them.

"Miriam," Hayley tried calling. Her partner didn't even flinch. "Miriam!" No use. She was dead to the world, and probably wouldn't be able to hear her over those headphones anyway. Hayley sighed and unzipped the tent the rest of the way, crawling inside. Balancing delicately around the detritus on the floor, she leaned over and grabbed Miriam's headphones from her ears, then prodded her in the shoulder. "Miriam! Wake up. We need to get going." Still no response. She poked her again, harder, and then a third time. "Miriam!"

Finally, Miriam cracked open her eyes. She squinted blearily around the tent, and when her eyes finally came to rest on Hayley, she let out a loud groan. "What the hell?" she muttered, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"It's morning. We need to get moving." At that, Miriam let out another, louder groan, and rolled over—but instead of getting up, she buried her head into her pillow, yelling a muffled stream of swears.

Okay. Maybe it was best to leave her alone, too. Hayley backed out of the tent and into the early morning sunshine again, settling cross-legged onto the ground.

It took almost an hour for Miriam to _sloooowly_ get ready—she was definitely trying to put off leaving—and for Hayley to pack up the rest of the camp. By then, the sun was climbing higher into the sky, and beads of sweat were already forming on the back of Hayley's sunburned neck. Petalburg Woods loomed tantalizingly in the distance, its promise of shade beckoning her closer. She went back to check on Barrett, only to find that the food she'd left him still hadn't been touched. He sat stubbornly beside the dish, glaring at her with defiant eyes. She chewed her lip. He had to eat—didn't he? It'd been at least four days, and even though he'd been inside his Pokéball for most of it, he still should've worked up an appetite. "Barrett, are you sure you don't want to eat?" she tried. "It'll be a long walk today, and you need your energy." Barrett curled the corner of his lip, a plume of smoke drifting up from his nostrils. He didn't budge. After a minute of waiting, Hayley sighed and picked up his bowl, dumping the pellets back into their bag. Fine, he was fighting her now, but he'd probably be more agreeable after a few more hours of running around. He couldn't hold out forever.

"Well, let's get going." She hefted her bag back onto her shoulders, wincing as it pinched the burned skin on her neck, and took the lead. Barrett glowered, but eventually stood up, shuffling off to her side without so much as a glance in her direction. Miriam plodded along several paces behind her, hunched over and grumbling like she was being marched to her death. They cut a cheery picture along the horizon, two despondent humans and one manic, smoke-spewing Magby. Hayley tried to lift her mood by thinking positive thoughts—strategies for her first gym battle, the next Pokémon she could catch for her team, what Connie would be doing right now—but they were all depressed by a thick, glum haze. So much for getting off to a good start.

After a while, she took a page from Miriam's book and distracted herself with her Pokédex. She pulled up the entry on Magby once again, swiping over to a list of League-recognized moves they could learn as they grew. A blurb above it described the species' capabilities.

" _A Magby's primary form of offense is the embers it breathes from its mouth. As a Magby grows stronger, its core temperature burns hotter, allowing these embers to combust into small flames. The range of a Magby's firebreathing will be limited until evolution, but their flames can grow hot enough to melt steel with prolonged application. Magby can also breathe smoke as a byproduct of its internal combustion, which can be manifested as clouds of black soot or as a dense caustic fog that causes respiratory distress and irritation of the mucous membranes. As a Magby nears evolution, it also gains the ability to raise the apparent temperature around its body, allowing it to amplify the power of fire techniques and confuse its opponent with heat mirages._

She knew he was registered as knowing the ember, cross chop, and smog techniques, and the list said that at his level, he also ought to be able to use smokescreen. She'd seen him use the first two, as well as put a few variations on his firebreathing, but he'd never breathed any smog or soot. Maybe she ought to start training him for real, instead of just letting him torment the wildlife—he wouldn't reach his full potential if he couldn't use all the attacks at his disposal, and he clearly wasn't going to teach himself. But would he listen to her? Probably not, but she could at least try.

"Barrett!" She called him over from where he was menacing a Wurmple. He ignored her at first, but she caught his attention with a threatening shake of his ball, and then he shuffled over warily. She crouched down to his height, overlooking the sideways glance and snort he gave her as she did so.

"Barrett," she said again, "if we're going to work together, I need to know what you can do in a fight." He cocked his brow and puffed a small plume of flames from his mouth, as if giving her a demonstration. "Well, yeah, I know you can breathe fire. And you pulled off a great cross chop on Howie's Aron. But can you breathe smoke, or smog? It might be useful against Roxanne's Pokémon." He huffed, crossing his good arm across his chest, and made no move to obey her. An awkward silence passed between them.

" _Barrett._ I'm your trainer. You need to listen to me." No reaction. Fine; she'd try a different tack. She put her hands on her knees and pushed herself up, brushing off her pants as she stood. "Okay. I was just wondering, since it says here in your Pokédex entry that you can do it—and I thought you were pretty strong, so it should be no problem for you. But if you can't, that's all right. I guess you just need a little more practice." She caught his eye as she finished talking, and saw his shoulders stiffen. She shrugged and glanced away. "It's okay. I just thought you were better—"

Before she could finish, Barrett inhaled sharply, his stomach ballooning out to twice its normal size. He tilted his head back, and Hayley thought she could hear a soft hissing coming from somewhere. Then, in one quick motion, he threw his head forward and released, belching out a thick cloud of grey-white smoke. The breeze carried it up to her eyes, making them sting and tear up, and when she made the mistake of breathing in, she gagged—it smelled like a cross between a burning match and rotten eggs. She coughed as the smog stung the back of her throat, and she stumbled back, waving a hand in front of her face. But it stayed in her lungs, burning them, and her chest spasmed as she fell into a coughing fit. Barrett watched her struggle for breath with an impassive look on his face, arm folded across his chest. It wasn't till a full painful minute had passed that it calmed down enough to let her take in deep breaths of fresh air. She struggled to recompose herself, wiping away the tears streaking down her cheeks and pulling a long swig from her canteen. Finally, she squared her shoulders and turned to Barrett again, trying to act as though nothing had happened.

"Okay! That was great," she said, her voice coming out in an odd croak. "We can definitely use that. Just, try not to hit me with it next time, okay?"

There was a malevolent gleam in Barrett's eye as he turned back away from her. He'd done it on purpose; she knew it, and he knew she knew it, but it wasn't as though she could prove it. He was testing his limits, seeing how far he could go before she locked him away again. She fingered his Pokéball at her hip, but decided against using it—it would only make him angrier at her.

He really was going to fight her every step of the way. She sighed as she heard the pained yelp of another unfortunate Poochyena, and jogged over to make sure Barrett wasn't getting too rough. No, he wasn't going to go quietly—she could count on that.

* * *

They reached the treeline of Petalburg Woods shortly past noon, just as the sun was starting its downswing in the sky. Hayley and Miriam both eagerly made for the relieving shade of the trees. Having not been in the Taillow Scouts for over a year now, Hayley had forgotten how brutal it was to spend a full day under the harsh Hoenn sun. Miriam was in much worse shape than she was, though, wilting and practically pouring sweat from her face. Over the past few hours, she'd even lost the energy to complain, which was something of a relief. Even Barrett was flagging; he should have been thriving in the hot weather, but his hunger seemed to be catching up with him. His movements were growing sluggish, his head dipping lower by the hour. It hadn't stopped him from picking fights with every Pokémon he'd seen on the way here, of course.

They broke for lunch in the shade of a huge oak tree. As Hayley pulled out her box of trail bars, she was surprised to see Miriam putting her Gameboy back inside her bag. "Did you beat the game?" she asked.

Miriam grunted. "Out of battery." It was the most they'd spoken all day.

Hayley filled Barrett's bowl with pellets and tried offering it to him again, but just as before, he refused it. She shook her head. "You can't just _not_ eat," she said, practically pleading with him by now. He grunted, and though he cracked an eye to give the bowl a sideways glance, he stayed seated on the ground. What was this, a hunger strike? "I know you don't like me, but you have to eat something," she tried again. "If you don't eat, you won't grow. You want to get stronger, don't you?" Still nothing. Hayley stepped back a few paces to give him some space, but when she and Miriam had both finished eating, the pellets remained untouched. Frustrated, she climbed a nearby Oran tree and tried to offer him some slices of the fruit, but he wouldn't so much as look at them. She chewed her lip again, feeling blisters start to peel under her teeth. Was she really so angry at her that he'd starve himself just to prove a point?

Eventually, they had to set off again. Hayley packed Barrett's food back into her bag and repeated the words that were becoming her mantra: they'd be fine; he had to eat eventually; he'd come around. She occupied herself with the thought of the road ahead: Petalburg Woods was huge, sprawling across a good chunk of the southern segment of Hoenn, and it would take weeks to fully explore on foot, but since they were only beginner trainers, they would be sticking to the comparatively short trail where the Route 104 footpath cut through. The path was maintained by rangers and beaten down by countless other travelers before them, so it would be easy enough to traverse. They could probably get to the other side in a day—maybe two, with Miriam slowing them down.

The path was fairly clear, though they still had to dodge around low-hanging tree branches and bushes that crept onto the dirt. Pokémon were far more abundant here than in the open plain—Taillow chirped from treetops, Zigzagoon darted around the undergrowth, and Wurmple crawled on tree trunks and hung from silk threads spun into the branches. There were even a few Cascoon and Silcoon nestled into some of the leaves. Barrett's head twisted this way and that as he eyed every last one of them, and bright sparks leapt from his mouth. Somewhere in the distance, a Poochyena howled. Barrett stiffened at the sound and began rushing into the undergrowth. Hayley sprang forward and cut him off, shaking her head.

"Barrett." He backed up and glared at her, a frown spreading across his snout. "You can't run off here. You'll get lost, and you might start a fire."

"You think he might burn the forest down?" Miriam asked. Hayley didn't miss the hopeful note that crept into her voice. She shrugged.

"It's pretty green, but there'll be lots of dead leaves and stuff… I don't want to risk it." Barrett snorted, spitting a clump of embers that sizzled and went out on the grass. "Sorry. But you can still fight Pokémon that show up along the path."

That apparently wasn't good enough for him. Barrett crossed his good arm across his chest and went into a sulk, plodding sullenly ahead of her. He kept his head down and refused to look at her, even after she called his name again. Hayley gave a long exhale and rubbed the bridge of her nose. It was for his own good! Of course, he didn't care about that, did he?

As they went forward, Hayley busied herself with studying the plethora of Pokémon rushing to and fro between the trees. She had to start planning out her next catch. It was a little early to catch another Pokémon now, seeing as she still hadn't gotten Barret under control, but—no harm in thinking about it, right? She flipped open her Pokédex again and checked the habitat list for low-level Pokémon in the area. Zigzagoon, Poochyena, Wurmple, Taillow—too common and too weak. Yeah, she knew that any Pokémon could be trained to grow strong, and that even the weakest and dullest Pokémon could be trained to be a great fighter down the line, but she didn't want some boring species that any ten-year-old could buy from a pet store. She wanted to show other people she was serious about training, and for that, she'd need something better. Further down the list—Silcoon and Cascoon. Not bad, but she didn't want to be stuck with a Pokémon that couldn't even move until it evolved. And then there were Shroomish and Slakoth. Both of them could learn some pretty amazing fighting moves after they evolved, and Shroomish's grass techniques would balance out Barrett's weakness against water, ground, and rock types. And with a grass-type, beating Roxanne would be a walk in the park.

She knew that if she looked long enough she could also find Vigoroth, Linoone, Swellow, Beautifly, and Dustox, but as tempting as the thought of having an evolved Pokémon on her team was, there was no way she'd be able to control them. The last thing she needed was to have _two_ overpowered Pokémon who liked making her life miserable.

Shroomish was probably her best bet for taking on the Rustboro gym. If she did try to capture one, she'd have to do it carefully—she only had the single basic Pokéball she'd been sent along with her Pokédex when she passed the POKE. It was meant for her starter Pokémon, but Barrett had come with his own. She wanted to get more, but Pokéballs were expensive, as were food and medicine, and she'd have to win a lot of battles before she had the money to buy spares. She had to make sure whatever she decided to catch wouldn't break out, or she'd be out of luck…

"Halt!" Hayley jumped and spun around. Behind her was a boy, probably several years older than her, standing in the road. He was wearing baggy khaki shorts and a blue button-down shirt, and his sunburned face was hidden behind a straw hat and thick round glasses. He drew a long-hafted net from his shoulder and pointed at her like a knight might brandish his sword.

"Um. Who are you?"

He dropped his net to his side and thumped his spare hand against his chest. "I am Lyle, sentinel of the Petalburg Woods. It is my duty to test all new trainers who enter this forest and ensure you are equipped to face the challenges that lie ahead." He dipped the brim of his straw hat lower and eyed her from beneath it. "After all, it can be dangerous for two young lasses to travel these woods alone, with only a single Pokémon each for company."

"Uhh." Hayley turned back to Miriam who just shrugged. What was this guy's deal? "Are you challenging me to a battle?" Behind her, Hayley heard a hiss and a patter of feet as Barrett hurried back to stand between them. Like before, his eyes were alight at the mention of battle; his fatigue forgotten and sparks leaping from his mouth.

"What better way to prove one's strength?" He swept a hand across his belt, which she noticed contained six gleaming Pokéballs. "This is my proposition: three of my children against your Magby. Should you win, you may continue on with the confidence that you are strong enough to combat what lies in these woods."

"Three on one isn't fair," Hayley stammered out. Inside, her heart was thudding. This guy was obviously experienced if he had a full team—what did he really want with her? Her mind turned to cautionary stories she'd heard of older trainers who preyed on newbies, stealing their equipment and money and sometimes even their Pokémon after destroying them in battle.

_And sometimes they did worse._

"Rest assured, my lady, I fight fairly." He was still speaking in a smooth and commanding voice that clashed badly with his geekish appearance. "These are hatchlings that have hardly tasted battle. Three of them should prove a satisfactory match for your Magby."

Hayley glanced back at Barrett, who was impatiently spewing smoke and grinding one heel into the dirt. It was probably fine, she thought, trying to reassure herself. What were the odds that the first trainer she met on this trip would be out to attack her? She wouldn't get anywhere if she was too scared to fight anyone—she couldn't let her nerves get the better of her. "…All right," she said at last, stepping back several paces to make room for a makeshift battlefield on the dirt road. "Three on one. Barrett, are you ready?"

He snorted in response, huffing a flame towards the ground. Of course he was ready.

"Then let us begin!" The strange boy unclipped the first Pokéball from his belt and threw it to the ground. When it burst open, Hayley felt all her anxiety rush from her in one big wave. It was a red, spiny worm, barely big enough to reach her calf, with yellow spikes on its head and rear and ten tiny, squirming feet. A Wurmple—that was all he had? She felt stupid for worrying at all.

"Barrett… Uh, get it!" The vaguer she was, the better. If she gave him a specific command, he'd probably ignore her out of spite, and she didn't want to look stupid in front of this weird, fancy-talking bug catcher. Anyway, Barrett knew how to fight Wurmple; he'd been tormenting them all yesterday. Sure enough, he lunged forward without any further prompting from her, closing in on the Wurmple in seconds and spitting a barrage of embers that landed squarely on its back. The bug gave a shriek and shrank back, recoiling from the heat.

"My dear Wurmple, stay focused. Bind its mouth." The Wurmple shook itself and clicked its mandibles, firing a jet of silk string towards Barrett—but the attack was too slow, and Barrett leaned out of the way easily. The silk landed uselessly on the grass behind him. Barrett responded with another ember attack, pulling another cry from the worm as the flames singed its chitinous body.

"String shot again," her opponent called, unperturbed. "Slow it down." Barrett tried to lean out of the way again as the Wurmple fired for a second time, but this time the bug went for his legs, not his head. The sticky string hit the side of Barrett's knee, gluing itself to the joint and locking it in place. Barrett growled and shook his leg, trying to dislodge it.

"Barrett, ignore it and go for another ember!" The Wurmple was looking pretty battered, and another hit would probably take it down. But Barrett ignored her, instead bending down and clawing at the strong.

"Now poison sting." Hayley stiffened as the Wurmple stood on its forelegs and raised its hindquarters into the air, spiny yellow stingers pointed right at the distracted Barrett. Before she could even order a dodge, it fired a barrage of tiny venomous barbs. Barrett stumbled back, nearly tripping on his bound leg, and hissed as the barbs embedded themselves in the smooth red scales of his chest. It looked painful, but Barrett was more surprised and angry than hurt—without hesitation, he snapped his head back up and shot another series of embers. They were brighter than before, burning yellow instead of their usual soft red. Hayley cringed and looked away as the Wurmple gave another sharp scream, its exoskeleton sizzling under the flames. When she brought her eyes back to the battlefield, it was crumpled and quivering on the ground, black scorch marks marring its body. Barrett stood over it, panting heavily.

The Wurmple's trainer brought up his ball to recall it. "Return, my loyal companion. You served me well." As the Wurmple dematerialized into red light, he threw his second ball to the ground, where it burst open to reveal…

…Another Wurmple? Well, at least he was consistent. "Barrett, ember!" More out of inertia than obedience, Barrett lumbered towards the second Wurmple, but his steps were slow and clumsy. His right leg had gone completely stiff, and Hayley realized the string must have hardened and tightened around it.

"Poison sting before it reaches you." The Wurmple did a handstand much like the first and launched a barrage of its own spines at Barrett. Barrett didn't bother dodging, determined as he was to move forward and exact his revenge, and he barely grunted as the spines bit into his left shoulder. He gave a futile swipe of his claws at the Wurmple before hitting it with another series of embers, still burning hot and yellow. The Wurmple toppled over and shrieked, rolling out of the way of the fire. Once it was clear of the attack, it spat a silken jet at Barrett, wrapping up his other leg. Barrett growled and spat, firing a clump of embers at the bug. They hit its soft underbelly, and with another scream, the Wurmple curled up and went still.

Nearly there, Hayley thought. The trainer's last Pokémon was—surprise, surprise—another Wurmple. For this one, he tossed the Pokéball in a long, gentle arc, making it land across the field near Hayley's feet. The bug glanced up at her when it popped out, chittering curiously. Hayley realized what he was doing—the positioning put the Wurmple safely on the other side of the field from Barrett, who was struggling to move with both his legs tied. It would give the Wurmple plenty of time to attack him from afar. The wheels in her head spun. "Barrett, long-range ember," she called out, remembering how he'd spat clumps of cinders at Zigzagoon to torment them from several strides away. But Barrett ignored her and instead lumbered forward, nearly toppling over as his bound knees refused to bend. She grimaced. "Barrett—"

"My lovely Wurmple, take cover." Where? The section of road they stood on was completely open. Hayley's question was answered when the Wurmple wiggled its rear and shot a line of silk skyward, tacking it on to one of the tree branches hanging over the path. It then turned and began pulling itself up, tiny nub feet working furiously as it inched its way up the string.

"Barrett, burn down the string before it can escape!" she shouted. No good. Barrett was still limping forward, his face contorted in an expression of pure rage. By the time he got to where the Wurmple had been standing, the bug had nearly reached the tree branch. Barrett growled and spat a puff of flame that died out before it could reach it. The Wurmple finished its climb unhindered, wrapping itself around the thin branch and twitching its mandibles as it looked down on its opponent.

"Now poison sting!" Barrett's aim might have been mediocre, but the Wurmple's was dead-on. It fired a series of stingers that landed in his stomach, burying deeply into the soft yellow skin. Barrett snarled and retorted with a blast of flame that once again only made it a short distance before sizzling out. By now, Hayley could see that something was wrong—his flames were dying back down from blazing yellow to a glowing red, and acrid black smoke was streaming from his mouth and nostrils. His breathing was turning from heavy to labored, and his limbs were trembling even as he glared up at his opponent. The poison, she realized—it was weak, but it must have been building up. She winced as the Wurmple launched another barrage, these ones landing higher in Barrett's chest. Barrett growled again and bent over, letting out another smoke-filled breath. Her fingers toyed with Barrett's Pokéball, turning it round and round. She didn't want to lose in her first real, official trainer battle but… Barrett was looking pretty bad, and they were at least a day out from the nearest Pokémon center. She couldn't let him get seriously hurt. And there was no way he could win this with the Wurmple still up in that tree. Hesitantly, she held out his Pokéball. "Barrett, return—"

Before her thumb could hit the recall button, Barrett rounded on her and hissed, spitting a ball of flame that missed her face by inches. Startled, she jumped back, dropping his ball to the ground. He'd attacked her again—for real this time, not just a couple of embers. As she struggled to collect herself, Barrett turned back to his opponent and snarled a challenge, spitting another smoke-filled burst of red flame. The Wurmple was unperturbed, only looking back to its trainer for instruction. At the boy's nod, the Wurmple shot a thick glob of string that hit Barrett square in the chest, finally knocking him to the ground.

"Barrett!" Hayley rushed onto the battlefield and knelt down, gingerly lifting the Magby into her arms. His skin was clammy and felt almost cool to the touch, compared to the warmth it usually gave off. His body was peppered with small yellow spines, and her stomach twisted upon seeing them up close—had he really been hit that many times? He swiped feebly at her as she peeled the silk thread from his chest, struggling to get back onto his feet. She bit her lip. "No, Barrett, it's over. You can't fight anymore."

"You put up a commendable battle." Hayley looked up to see the strange bug trainer standing over her. He was holding out what she recognized as a potion spray and a vial of antidote, already prepped for injection. She took it from him without meeting his eyes, her face burning red. How could she have lost to a bunch of Wurmple? "You should be capable of fending off the dangers that lurk deeper within this forest once your teammate is rested and recovered, but should you desire, I can escort you back to the entrance."

"No… That's okay." She knew that was stupid, and that she shouldn't be going further into the woods with an injured Pokémon, but she felt sick at the thought of having to be around someone who had beaten her like that—especially someone as weird as this guy.

"Then I will leave you to your task. Good fortune in your travels." He tipped his wide-brimmed straw hat again and turned around, disappearing down the twisting path.

In the ensuing silence, Miriam was the first to speak up. "What a creep."

"Yeah… It wasn't fair. He had so many…" Hayley shook her head and trailed off, dropping her backpack to the ground. She rooted around inside and came up with her first aid kits, from which she drew a small pair of tweezers. The antidote would heal the poison that was already in Barrett's system, but she knew that if she didn't pull out the stingers, they could keep leaking more venom and poison him all over again.

Barrett squirmed in her lap as she touched the tip of the tweezers against one of the stingers. "This might hurt, but you have to stay still, okay?" she said, keeping her voice as gentle as she could. She gave a tug with the tweezers, wincing as the barbed end of the needle emerged through his scales, rupturing the surface with a jagged hole and a small trickle of blood. Immediately Barrett convulsed and jerked away, scratching her arm with his claws and leaving a thin red mark on her skin. Hayley shut her eyes and took a deep breath. He didn't mean it; he was just hurt and lashing out. He would pick up on how she was feeling, so she had to stay calm. "It's not that bad," she said, moving towards another barb near his shoulder. "Just a few more…"

The second her tweezers touched the needle Barrett recoiled with a forceful hiss, and his entire body glowed red-hot. She yelped and pushed him off her legs before he could burn her, just as he released a breath full of smoke and embers aimed right at where her head had been seconds before. She scrambled to her feet and watched stiffly as he lay on the ground, panting heavily, his half-lidded eyes still focused on her.

"I'm trying to help you," she said, more pleading than reassuring at this point. He grunted. Hayley gritted her teeth. "Miriam, help me hold me down."

"No way. I'm not going near that thing."

"He's not a _thing_ , he's…" A living creature. One who hated her and would probably fight her with his dying breath. Why, she didn't know.

What she did know was that she had had enough.

She crouched down to where her backpack lay on the ground, unzipped it all the way, and overturned it, all her carefully-packed supplies falling to the ground in a heap. She rummaged through until she found what she was looking for: a pair of heavy leather-palmed work gloves. They were meant for climbing ropes, clearing debris, that sort of thing; she doubted they were meant to hold down a belligerent Magby for medical treatment, but, well, she was going to have to improvise. She slipped them on and flexed her fingers, trying to work away the feeling of their stiffness and bulk. Then, bedside manner forgotten, she moved over to Barrett and grabbed him by his side. Her sudden forwardness seemed to surprise him, as he froze just long enough for her to turn him so he was on his side, facing away from her. "Look," she hissed, her voice quavering with adrenaline. "I know you hate me, but I have to do this. You're hurt, and I'm your trainer, and it's my job to make sure you're okay. So deal with it, stop fighting, and let's get this over with, okay?"

He struggled under her grip as she fumbled with the tweezers in her other gloved hand, finally managing to grasp another stinger after a few failed tries. She yanked it out, and Barrett grunted and thrashed, spitting a glob of embers onto the dirt ahead of him—but he couldn't twist his head far enough around to hit her, and so his protests were useless as she clumsily honed in on another barb. She kept her hold tight, and gradually his struggles grew weaker and weaker as his exhaustion got the better of him. By the time she had finished his left side, he finally lay still, only giving a token jerk and grumble every time she pulled out another barb. When she finished and rolled him over to do his right, his narrowed eyes met hers again, and she tensed up, wondering if he would attack her again. But he just huffed tiredly, letting out a tiny plume of smoke that made her eyes water, and let her roll him the rest of the way over.

The second half of the operation went much more smoothly, now that Barrett didn't have the energy to protest. When she'd finally pulled out the last of the barbs, she finished off the operation by injecting the hypospray of antidote into his upper arm and spraying the canister of healing potion over his scratches and punctures to help them heal up. At last, she released her hold on him and stood up, pulling off her gloves—the palms were a little charred and smelled funny, but on the whole they'd held up pretty well. She looked down at Barrett, who was still scowling, even as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "There," she said. "It's done. Next time try staying still, and maybe it'll hurt less, okay?" He barely had the strength to grumble at her. She drew his Pokéball from her belt and called him back inside; he would hate her all over again for it, but he would be too exhausted to keep walking, and he needed time to cool down. The tiny, exhausted, Magby-shaped ball of rage diffused into red light and disappeared.

Hayley turned around to see Miriam looking at her with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. She scowled. "What?" she snapped, bending over to begin shoving her things back into her bag. Miriam shrugged her shoulders and unfolded her arms, holding her hands up defensively.

"Nothing. Whatever." Fine. If she didn't want to say anything, then Hayley could just keep fuming to herself. She cursed between clenched teeth, berating both herself and her Pokémon under her breath. She'd let herself believe things were starting to get better with Barrett, and now—she was stupid, so stupid, and all she wanted was to lock herself in a room and scream until her lungs gave out. But she couldn't. The day was young, and they were in the middle of nowhere with an entire forest to get through.

And unbeknownst to her, the worst part of the trip was still to come.


	7. Pursuit

"Do we really need to sleep in this creepy forest?"

Hayley stifled a groan as she unclipped her rolled-up tent from her backpack. "Well, we haven't made it all the way through yet," (thanks to somebody who had to keep stopping for a break every fifteen minutes), "so yeah."

"Can't we just keep going?" Miriam persisted. "I want to get back to a real city."

"It's going to get dark soon," Hayley said. "We won't be able to see. Besides, it's another day of walking between the forest and Rustboro anyway."

Miriam moaned and slumped against a tree, sinking to the ground. "This sucks. I can't sleep here. I can feel things looking at me."

"Then go in your tent. They won't be able to see you there."

Miriam curled her lip and scoffed, glaring daggers at Hayley from her spot on the ground. "If we get murdered out here, it's your fault."

Hayley wanted to bang her head against a tree. Better yet, she wanted to grab Miriam by the shoulders and shake her. Her stomach was still twisted in knots from her altercation several hours ago with Barrett, and Miriam's constant complaining was only drawing it tighter. Miriam hated walking, hated camping, hated the outdoors, and wouldn't even look at her Pokémon, so why was she here? What could she possibly be getting out of this, besides the joy of making Hayley's life miserable?

Regardless, they were staying here tonight. They set up camp—or more accurately, Hayley set up camp yet again while Miriam sat back and leered at her. When it was done, Miriam retreated inside her tent, disappearing with the tug of a zipper. Then, and only then, Hayley finally settled onto the ground, hung her head, and let out her pent-up frustration in a long, hissing sigh.

She was trying. Really trying. But… Arceus, it was so hard. It wasn't supposed to be going like this; she wasn't supposed to be stuck in a forest with two partners who hated her. She was supposed to be having fun.

Suddenly wistful, Hayley pulled her phone out of the side pocket of her backpack and switched it on. Since leaving Petalburg, she'd had it turned off to conserve the battery, but now she needed something to take her mind off things. The screen lit up, and almost immediately a barrage of notifications flew in, making the phone buzz and chime in her hand for a solid minute as each fought for her attention. She scrolled through them all in turn: a few were from her mother—"Hope you're doing okay. Thinking about you," and that sort of thing—but most had come from Connie. Pictures, texts, and even a few videos that Hayley couldn't download with the poor reception of the forest. Updates from her car ride towards Verdanturf, shots of landmarks along the way, a picture of the town's sign ("Welcome to Verdanturf—The windswept highlands with the sweet fragrance of grass—New coordinator registrations open now!") and the Pokémon center they'd settled into. After that, it was all about Marcie. It seemed like Connie had made good on her intentions and was teaching the Ralts how to dance, judging by the pictures of the Pokémon performing shaky pliés and leg lifts. Hayley couldn't help but smile at the sight of the nervous Ralts working through the positions, her head tilted far back so she could observe Connie's example with her wide eyes. Between Connie's direction and the natural grace of the Ralts line, she'd be an accomplished ballerina in no time.

When she'd gotten through all her messages, Hayley looked up again to see that the shadows were growing longer and darker, and that the sky was glowing a deep, dusky blue. Even though they were in a small clearing, Hayley didn't want to risk building a fire, so they'd be out of light soon; she ought to get to sleep before that. But first, dinner. She pulled a protein bar from the jumbled depths of her backpack and bit down on it—

A prickle ran down her neck. It was the uncomfortable feeling of eyes on the back of her head. Hayley jumped straight up and glanced to and fro, peering into the trees. But no one was there. No one that she could see…

A bush behind her rustled, and she spun around, grabbing Barrett's Pokéball from her belt. She glared at the spot the sound had come from, but there was no further flash of movement, no gleam of staring eyes. She sat back down and let out a long breath. Miriam's paranoia was getting to her. Of course they weren't alone out here; there were scores of Wurmple and Zigzagoon lurking in the trees, and they'd probably taken an interest in her dinner. Nothing to worry about. She'd never had problems sleeping in the woods before, and she wasn't about to start now.

Superstitions or no, sleep didn't come easily to her that night. Her stress had finally overridden her exhaustion, and her mind raced as the minutes ticked by. Outside, the trees rustled and creaked in the breeze, louder than she'd ever remembered them being. It felt like she'd only just managed to shut her eyes when someone was roughly shaking her awake.

"Wake up." Hayley sat up slowly and blinked, rubbing her eyes. Miriam was in her tent, disheveled and wide-eyed, a flashlight casting odd shadows on her face.

Hayley stifled a yawn. "What is it?"

"The trees. The trees are moving."

Hayley stared at her dumbly for a moment, trying to put together why she'd been woken up for this. "It's just the wind," she said, unable to keep the flat irritation out of her voice. It was the middle of the night, and they had a long walk tomorrow, and she'd just gotten to sleep.

"No." Miriam grabbed her wrist and pulled, gesturing outside the tent flap. "Come look."

Well, it looked like she wasn't getting back to sleep until she humored her. Hayley grudgingly grabbed her flashlight and groped for her boots, tying the laces with sluggish fingers. Then she stumbled out of the tent opening, another long yawn popping her jaw.

Outside, a soft rain was falling. It was impenetrably dark aside from the beam of her flashlight. Droplets of water glittered as she swung it in a wide arc, examining her surroundings. Left, right, and—

She jumped as the beam landed on something right in front of here. Thick and brown, the rough texture of bark nearly scraping against her nose—she was face-to-face with a huge oak tree. That was weird; why had she set her tent up facing so close to a tree?

The gears in her mind began churning to life with confused creaks and groans. No… No, that wasn't right. They'd made camp in a relatively clear area—that hadn't been there before.

"What…?" She reached out to touch the trunk, wondering if this was some kind of trick, only to yank her hand back when several thick white strings zipped down from the branches above. Aiming her flashlight upward, she saw the glint of beady black eyes and telltale splashes of scarlet and yellow. Wurmple. A small group was watching her from the branches, which danced back and forth in the breeze. True to what Miriam had said, the boughs were moving almost as if they were alive, bucking and swaying with the breeze. She stared for a moment, transfixed; she'd never seen trees move like this before. Maybe it was something to do with the forest; maybe the way the trees grew around here affected the way they moved. Or maybe it was just an odd pattern of wind. Yes, the wind…

The thought should have reassured her, but instead it left her feeling slightly unsettled. Why? Her thoughts clicked steadily along, trying to get a grasp on the situation around her. It was just the wind, just the wind. But, no, that couldn't be right. Because… Because…

There was no wind, she realized, as her stomach dropped to her knees. The air around her was deathly still.

In the light of the flashlight, each branch twisted and writhed as if it were a living thing, moving independently of the canopy around it. Wood bent and creaked, and verdant green leaves rustled like scales on a snake. They seemed to take notice of the flashlight's beam as she held it in place, bending around it and reaching down like flowers towards the sun. Towards the light—

No. Towards her.

"I told you there was something wrong with this forest," Miriam hissed as Hayley stepped back against her tent. Hayley shook her head, still trying to grasp what was going on.

"I'm sure there's a reason." She kept her voice low so as not to disturb anything else that might be lurking in the trees. Moving her flashlight onto the other trees that circled them, she saw that the entire canopy was moving unnaturally, dancing like someone in the sky was puppeting each individual branch on a string. And it wasn't just the one tree that had closed in on them. The previously spacious clearing had tightened into a claustrophobic hollow, dozens of trees ringing their tents and shutting them in. When Hayley let the light linger for a few moments on a distant trunk, she swore she saw it shudder and bend. Then, inch by inch, its thick roots began pulling out from underneath the ground, splaying across the dirt like enormous feet. Once they were completely exposed, it lurched suddenly forward, churning up the soil as the roots dragged its massive body forth.

"Did you piss off Celebi or something?" Miriam muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind." Miriam drew in closer, her back nearly against Hayley's. "We have to get out of here."

"Yeah." Hayley swallowed. Even as they stood there, the trees nearest to them had begun trembling again, trunks bending forward to snake their roots and branches closer and closer. The advance was slow, almost imperceptible, but the intention was clear—they were going to trap them here.

"We need to go."

For once, Miriam didn't argue. Hayley darted back into her tent and grabbed her backpack, slinging it onto her back. She fastened her Pokéball belt around her waist, pulling it an extra notch so it wouldn't slip off her pajama shorts. The bright red of the solitary Pokéball stood out in the darkness. She brushed her fingers against it, feeling its inner warmth permeate the cold metal exterior. Barrett was injured, and angry with her, and there was no way he could fight off an entire forest… But right now, he was her best shot at getting out of this alive.

Hayley was ready and back outside in under a minute. Miriam took longer to emerge, probably stuck picking up everything she'd scattered around her tent floor. Hayley kept her flashlight trained on the encroaching trees, legs tensed and ready to bolt at the first sign of aggression. They were becoming more active now, their roots wriggling up and down in the dirt like huge earthworms, the trunks bucking and swaying. When something grabbed her arm. Hayley yelped and nearly clubbed it with her flashlight before realizing it was just Miriam, finally packed and ready to go. "Come on," Miriam hissed, tugging Hayley forward as though she had been the one keeping them here. Miriam's jaw was set tight, but in the stark glare of the flashlight, her eyes were wide and darting.

Hayley furrowed her brow at the treeline. The gaps between the trees were shrinking by the minute as the trunks huddled closer and closer. They still looked wide enough to slip through, but if they waited any longer, they'd be trapped for good. "Count of three," she muttered, hunching forward and ducking her head. "One, two…" She swayed on the balls of her feet. She was no linebacker, but she'd have to push through. "Don't stop for anything. Three!"

They both bolted at once, Hayley's longer strides putting Miriam a few steps behind her. The boughs of the trees bent down as they approached, branches reaching out like bony fingers to grasp them, but Hayley covered her head with her arms and ran blindly through. Bark scraped against her shoulder and arms, tearing at her shirt and scratching her skin, trying to snare her in place. Something prickly tightened around her leg, snagging her mid-stride and sending her sprawling into the damp earth. She yelped and kicked at it clumsily, wincing as the action drove thorns into her bare skin but not letting up until she felt its grip loosen. With a desperate tug, she pulled herself free and scrambled to her feet—just in time for something to whizz forward and smack her in the nose. She swatted belatedly at the attacker, but something else dove into her arm, grabbing and tearing flesh before vanishing again. Hayley jumped to the side and glanced over to see a pair of Taillow bobbing several meters from her, their tiny wings beating furiously to stay aloft.

Why were they attacking her? She wasn't… The thought was interrupted by a series of high-pitched yaps cutting through the air from the other direction. Poochyena. She ducked as the pair of Taillow zoomed towards her again, crossing over her head in an elegant figure eight. It wasn't just the trees, she thought as she stumbled forward, straining to put some distance between herself and her attackers. It was the forest. The entire forest was against her.

She ran. Her legs moved up and down like pistons, boots kicking up clods of mud behind her as she ran further past the swaying trees. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she ducked and wove around reaching branches and leapt over crawling vines, her heart pounding louder and harder to match with her footsteps. The rain was falling harder now, thick droplets filtering through the tree boughs and splattering against her face. It was dark, so dark; her flashlight was useless, a bobbing point of light in the great expanse of black. Creatures leapt from the darkness to ambush her, Taillow dive-bombing her from the branches and Zigzagoon scurrying underfoot. The yapping of the Poochyena horde behind her grew louder, their barks interspersed with snarls and howls. Time was lost to her; Hayley didn't know how long or how far she'd gone, only that her thighs burned and each breath stabbed like a knife in her chest, when she came to the sick realization that she'd forgotten about Miriam.

Crap. She dug her heels into the muddy ground and skidded to a stop, swinging her flashlight in a wide arc around her. A Taillow took the opportunity to dive in towards her; she smacked it out of the air with a lucky hit from her flashlight. She barely had time to feel bad about it before a thick silk string shot out of one of the trees beside her, wrapping around her arm. She tugged and clawed at it with her other hand, but the substance held fast and wouldn't give under her fingernails. Something zipped past her face from behind her, and she whirled around to see another pair of Wurmple perched in the waving branches, their yellow stingers raised high in the air. Poison sting. Another high-pitched howl tore out of the darkness, and the hairs on Hayley's arms stood at attention. It was close—so close. They were here.

The barking rose to drown out the creaking of trees as the undergrowth ahead of her parted. The Poochyena's dark grey fur hid them well in the shadows; she could only count them by the glint of their fangs and their angry red eyes. Several of them swarmed around her, locking her in place while the others bounded in to attack. The first one lunged with a hungry snarl, sinking its teeth into the ankle of her boot. She yelped and kicked it off, knocking it flat on its back with a whimper. The growling grew louder; another Poochyena jumped and scrabbled at her leg, finally managing to sink its teeth in just below her knee. She screamed and kicked at it with her other leg, knocking it away, but its jaws held fast and tore her skin away with it. She flinched as pain lanced through her leg, tears stinging at her eyes and disappearing into the streaks of rain. Her free hand grasped at the Pokéball at her waist. Barrett—he could help her. But it was raining, and there were so many Poochyena, and only one of him… And more than that, Hayley's mind filled with the memory of his glare, so indignant and full of hate. She couldn't stand the thought that it might be the last thing she saw before they both got torn apart.

One of the Poochyena slammed into the back of her leg, buckling her knee and almost dropping her to the ground. The howls rose to a fever pitch as the others grabbed at her shoelaces and rammed against her calves, trying to bring her down. She kicked and stomped wherever she could, but whenever one fell away, another ran in to take its place. She clawed again at the Wurmple's string holding her in place, but it had hardened like a plaster cast around her wrist, and the tree it was anchored to pulled back as she tried to tug it away. There was a way out of this; there had to be. The thought repeated and ran through her mind like a mantra. There had to be a way, there must be something she could do. Her hand dropped to her belt again, and she clutched the Pokéball tight, but after a moment there, she let her arm fall limp at her side. No, there was nothing. This was it. This—

A sudden explosion of white light burst at her feet, momentarily highlighting the scene in sharp relief and sending both her and the Poochyena reeling back. A high metallic bellow rose from the spot. Hayley glanced down, blinking the ghosts of the light out of her eyes. It was an Aron, its blue eyes gleaming from underneath a scuffed, mud-spattered shell. It lifted its head and called again, freezing the Poochyena who'd begun creeping back. It turned briefly to look at her; it was hard to tell in the dark, but Hayley thought she saw a smooth patch on its faceplate where steel had sloughed away and reformed. It caught her eye, and in that moment, she realized—

"Hayley!" Her shoulders dropped with relief. She'd never been so glad to hear Howie's high, nasally voice. She turned her head and saw him standing in a small opening behind her, holding out a lantern that bathed the area in welcoming light. His jacket was muddy and torn and his glasses were crooked and spattered with rain, but his eyes were hard and his voice was steady as he called out again. "Hang on, we've got this! Mona, take them down!"

The Aron shouted a response and lunged forward, ramming her faceplate into a Poochyena's ribs. The dogs stood slightly taller than her, but she had a good hundred pounds on them, and her hit was strong enough to send the target sprawling. The rest of the Poochyena huddled closer, growling uncertainly at the sight of their new opponent, but a sharp bark from their apparent leader put them back in order again. Ramona, unperturbed, clomped backwards a few steps and lowered her head for a charge. A few Poochyena lunged as she approached, but her momentum knocked them away. She bashed straight into the chest of one of the rougher-looking canines, landing the blow with a solid crack. The Poochyena yelped and tumbled backwards, not getting up again. At the sight, a few more of the dogs backed away, growling warily. The others lunged forward, lashing out with tooth and claw, but their attacks slid harmlessly off Ramona's sturdy metal carapace, and a rough headbutt from her knocked one clean away. One by one they fell away from her, injury and their natural cowardice sending them scampering back into the shadows as they realized they couldn't win. The ones that stayed fell from nasty blows as she slammed into them, using her body weight as a natural weapon. Eventually, all that remained was one scrawny Poochyena, who stood glaring at Ramona with unsteady eyes. Ramona stared him down and gave a metallic warning bark that put the dogs' to shame. The Poochyena's fleeting courage failed, and he turned tail and ran, joining the rest of his pack in the undergrowth.

Hayley let out a sigh, her legs turning weak as the panic and adrenaline left her. Howie crossed over to her and offered her a utility knife, which she took gladly. She flushed a bit as she remembered her own knife, packed safely away deep in one of the pockets of her bag. A fat lot of good that had done her. After a few moments of sawing at the silk string, it frayed and snapped, releasing her arm.

"We need to keep moving," Howie said, recalling his Aron in a glow of red light. "If we stay in one spot too long, the trees'll move in and get us." He paused for a moment, visibly thinking over what he'd just said. "It sounds stupid, but—"

"I know." Hayley yanked the remnants of the string shot off her wrist and took a few experimental steps, wincing as her new wound stung and burned with each flex of her calf. It was either blood running down the back of her leg, or rain; she couldn't tell, and she was afraid to check. She swallowed. "Howie, I lost Miriam."

He swung around again towards her, lifting his lantern higher to illuminate his face. Hayley squinted in the sudden glare. "You did? Where?"

"I don't know. It was…" Her mind was racing again. Now that the fear of imminent death was gone, everything that she'd pushed to the back of her mind was bubbling up to the surface. Her legs burned and shook with the exertion of sprinting, and her breath was sore in her chest; the rain was coming down harder than ever, leaving her skin numb and white. "We were running," she said at last. "And I just… lost her."

Howie cursed, something rare enough that Hayley actually flinched. "Where did you come from?"

"Over… there." Hayley lifted her hand to point, but it fell again as her eyes met a solid wall of trees. Her stomach twisted. When had they moved? She'd only looked away for a moment.

Silence passed between them as each of them took it in, and then Howie spoke again. "I can't find Gavin either." Hayley's stomach kicked as she realized the shy boy was nowhere to be seen. They were alone. "We were trying to stay together, but then I turned around and he was gone… Do you think they're trying to separate us?"

"Who's 'they'?" Hayley whispered, her mouth dry despite the rain pouring down around her. Howie shook his head.

"I don't know. But I guess we can't go back that way now, so let's… let's just keep moving where we can. Maybe… We might find them again along the way."

His words rang hollow in her ears, but what else could they do? Hayley took a feeble step towards the tree wall, only for the trunks to shudder and lean closer together, their boughs reaching down like grasping talons. "All right," she said, her voice so quiet that it was almost lost in the creaking of wood. Howie grabbed her arm pointedly and began jogging off into the darkness. Hayley followed him reluctantly, her steps slow and heavy against the muddy ground.


	8. Forest's Curse

"We need to find a way back to the road." Howie's voice was high and strained, coming between rapid pants. They'd been running for what felt like hours, but they were no closer to getting out. In fact, the trees were becoming thicker and taller as they progressed, and the ground was growing wild with untamed vegetation. "They're trying to push us in. They want to trap us here."

Hayley shook her head, her wet hair sticking against the sides of her face. The gash on her leg flared and burned with each step, dimmed only by the icy pounding of the rain. "How do we get out?"

"I don't know." They skidded to a stop in the mud as another line of trees cropped up seemingly from nowhere, blocking their way. Howie swung his lantern around and pointed to an opening off to the right, and they started off again. "It's almost like they're trying to lead us someplace."

"Then—" Could they try to fight against it, go the other way? Hayley knew the answer even before she swiveled her head to look back. The path was already closing up. Trees were falling into line, forming a thick tangle of branches and bark too tight for anyone to pass. It was happening faster now, she realized. Back at the campsite, the trees had moved sluggishly, just tossing their canopies back and forth and dragging themselves across the ground almost too slowly to be seen. But their branches were more like fingers now, trunks bending at sharper and sharper angles, and all around them was the steady _thump, thump, thump_ of enormous bodies crossing the forest floor. As they pressed on, the roots underfoot began writhing like a nest of snakes, tripping up their steps. Hayley stumbled and nearly fell face-first into one of the giant oaks, barely managing to catch herself on the rough bark. She gasped as two glowing blood-red eyes materialized from the trunk and fixed straight on her, huge and unblinking. She fell back, and the eyes disappeared, but then a thick black mist began pouring from a crack in the trunk. Almost invisible in the darkness, it materialized into a semi-solid ribbon as long and thick as her forearm—and then it opened its eyes again, letting out a cry so mournful and shrill that her whole body shivered. And then she blinked and it was gone, darting off past her and into the safety of another tree.

"We must be getting closer," Howie puffed, echoing her own thoughts. "Whatever's causing all this… They're taking us to it."

They had no choice. They had to keep going.

It wasn't much further ahead that the trees suddenly parted, and the two of them stumbled into an open grove. The rain was coming down in sheets now, and without the protection of the canopy, the droplets ran straight into Hayley's eyes, blinding her. She wiped some of the water away from her face and shielded her eyes with both hands, peering out into the dark, open space. The rain obscured everything more than a few yards away, so she couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a massive shape looming in the center of the clearing. Behind her, the trees creaked and rustled as they moved in behind her, sealing them in like bars on a prison cell. She glanced over at Howie—his jaw was tightly clenched, his face neutral, but his lantern shook under his white-knuckled grasp. She swallowed. Cold dread had coiled in the pit of her stomach, mixing with leftover adrenaline to turn her insides to stone. The only way out was forward, she told herself, fingers brushing over Barrett's Pokéball. Whatever was ahead, they'd have to face it. But…

Roots lifted under her feet, making her stumble forward to keep her balance. She inched ahead at a snail's pace, one foot landing just barely in front of the other. The trees drew in with them, the small grove tightening into a claustrophobic hollow. She neared the shape at the center—it was a tree, she saw now, massive and gnarled, its trunk as thick around as an Onix, and its branches jutting out everywhere at twisted angles. Deep horizontal scars in its bark marked places where someone before had tried, and failed, to cut it down. The trees all around them writhed and shuddered, but this one was as still as the grave.

Howie froze, his legs locking into place. He shot her a fearful glance, but her attention was fixed on the tree. Something about it was… strange. The cracks and whorls of the bark seemed to sift slowly before her eyes, morphing into pictures just a bit too far away for her to make out. She took another step closer. The creaking of the woods around her had fallen silent, and the cold lash of rain against her skin dulled to a gentle tingle, but she hardly noticed. Another step. Her body was light now, practically moving by itself, and she didn't think to fight it as she reached out to lay one palm flat against the trunk—

 _CRACK!_ A peal of lightning and thunder split the air, lighting the grove in sharp black and white. Hayley flinched and pulled back, her focus ripped from the tree and thrown back onto the world around her. It all filtered back as her brain shook itself to life: the creaking, the rain, the fear… And one huge, glowing, crimson eye, slowly opening from within a hollow in the trunk.

She screamed. The tree sprang to life, quivering violently as it pulled itself apart along the scars in its trunk. Black mist poured from inside, and Hayley realized with a jolt that the thing was hollow, dead—probably had been for years. She scrambled backwards, but the roots underneath her circled behind her legs, tripping her onto the wet ground. The tree's gnarled branches whipped down to follow her; she rolled away and flinched at the snap of wood against wood. Above her, the tree was bent almost double, pivoting at the gashes in its trunk in a gross imitation of a human spine. The thickest of the branches were cracking and breaking apart too, individual sections flailing in streams of eerie dark energy.

The creature's eye swiveled and fixed on her again, and it gave a long, low moan, somewhere between the creaking of a falling tree and the wail of an anguished spirit. It shot its branches at her again and snatched her up, rough segments of bark tightening around her arms like gripping fingers. A cry of pain escaped her as the wood tore across her skin, leaving cuts and splinters where it went. Reflexively, she grasped at the Pokéball belt on her waist, managing to smack the release button on Barrett's ball just before the branches snaked around her wrists and pulled her arms out level with the ground. There was no time to worry about the consequences now; she had to fight!

The ball popped off her belt as it expanded and hit the ground with a wet plop, triggering the release mechanism. The air filled with a welcome rush of white light, which then faded to reveal the Magby, his face scrunched up in confusion and distaste. His expression quickly darkened as raindrops splattered against his scales, sending up tiny wisps of steam into the dark night. He glanced from the muddy ground to the rain-filled sky and then finally the Hayley with a growl, demanding an explanation.

"Barrett!" she shouted. Her voice was almost lost in the whipping wind and the creaking of the trees. Another flash filled the sky as lightning struck somewhere nearby, sending a crack of thunder echoing across the grove. "Please, I need your help! This thing, it's—!" Her words cut off into a sharp yelp as the creature pulled her arms further apart, trying to rip her in half between the shoulders. The glowing red eye followed her lazily as she struggled, its iris constricting and swiveling impassively. Another branch shot down from its canopy, slicing into her side before it coiled around her waist. She tried to kick, but the branches had crawled down along her legs, and the movement only squeezed them tighter into her skin. She craned her neck down towards Barrett, only to see—he hadn't moved. His head was cocked slightly, and he was watching her, his eyes glittering in the darkness. What was he doing? "Please!" she shouted again. "Use a fire attack—something!" Her voice cracked on the last word as the branches clenched around her chest, pushing the air out of her lungs. Still, Barrett didn't make any move to attack. She fixed her eyes on his, silently pleading for him to help, to do something that would save her from this. He just stared straight back at her, his gaze unflinching.

He couldn't be—

He wasn't—

He hated her, but _surely—_

"Barrett," she croaked out again, her voice cut down to a whisper. Her lungs burned for air as they struggled against her constricted chest, and the corners of her vision swam and blurred. Everything was growing faint again—distant, like a dream. Only one image came through clearly: Barrett, the corners of his mouth turned down in a scowl, shaking his head almost imperceptibly as he turned and put his back to her. It struck her like a knife in the heart, lancing through her sharper than the dozens of branches tearing at her skin. He hated her. He _hated_ her. And he was going to let her die.

A sudden pop and hiss sounded behind her, and the trunk of the tree-creature exploded with red light. The monster shrieked, recoiling as a fist-sized ball of fire burrowed into its midsection, hissing and spitting and filling the air with white smoke. The branches around Hayley loosened, and her chest expanded, pulling in a desperate breath. Gasping, she twisted around, trying to wrench her limbs free. Her right arm pulled loose with a sting of pain, letting her wriggle far enough around to see what had saved her. Howie stood several paces back, his backpack and lantern on the ground, both hands clasped around a bright orange flare gun. She tried to call out to him, but just as she did, the branches tightened around her legs and chest once more. The tree yanked her forward, bringing her close enough that her nose brushed its trunk. The great gleaming eye filled her vision, its pupil dilated with hatred and pain. The flare embedded in the tree's body sparked and burned, but now that the shock was gone, it only seemed to make the monster angrier. A gap below its eye opened up with a splintering crack, fragments of jagged bark cutting across the black insides like giant teeth. She screwed her eyes shut as it pulled her closer, closer, its black mist washing over her with the cold, rotting stench of death—

But just then, the air seemed to still. The rustling of the trees fell silent, and a mournful howl cut across the grove, high-pitched and anguished like the cry of a grieving mother. An unbearable pang of sadness struck at Hayley's heart, and new tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. And then, everything went black. Even the glow of the red eye was swallowed up as an ephemeral wave of darkness washed over them. Hayley only felt an intense rushing pressure, like being caught under the surf in the ocean, but the tree in front of her suddenly bucked and screamed, writhing like it was being torn apart. The branches holding her jerked and lashed, tearing anew into her skin, but then one by one, they slackened and fell away. Hayley wasn't aware of falling until she hit the ground, a new, dull pain blooming across her right shoulder. The entire forest was screaming now; trees cracked and snapped, Zigzagoon and Poochyena howled into the void, and the wind moaned like a dying man. They cried out as one, the cacophony pushing into her ears as it grew louder and louder—

And then suddenly it was gone. The forest was still, and the only sound came from the peals of thunder and the rush of driving rain. Hayley was lying on her back on the ground, mud soaking into her shirt and angry red scratches burning along her arms and legs. Ahead of her was a tree, old and dead, split apart like it had been struck by lightning; behind her, there was the quick splatter of frantic footsteps.

"Arceus, are you all right?" Howie's voice was thin and strained as he crouched beside her. Too exhausted to sit up, Hayley lolled her head backwards, getting a view of him upside-down. His cheeks were a blotchy red and his glasses were streaked completely with rain; she wondered how he could even see. Slowly, she rolled over to her stomach and used her trembling arms to push herself to her knees. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, useless and silent, until she finally found the words to answer his question.

"I guess." Her words were barely audible over the lashing rain. Her body quivered, more from exhaustion and fear than from the cold; she seemed to have gone entirely numb, her limbs tingling with pins and needles. Howie offered her a hand, and she clasped it weakly, letting him pull her back up to a standing position. She rocked dangerously back and forth before finding her center, holding onto his arm for support. She felt odd and detached, like her mind was somewhere else, watching this all happen from far above the forest. Blinking rapidly, she tried to drag it back down to the present.

Howie was coping in his own way, words tumbling disjointedly out of his mouth as he struggled to explain what had happened. "…not really native to Hoenn," she heard him say as she tuned in and out through the ringing in her head. "Some of the rangers have seen them… Usually not in this part of the forest, but… Habitat displacement? Maybe it was moved…" It felt like meaningless gibberish to her ears. She shook her head again, trying to clear it, and turned towards the sole spot of red still lingering in her field of vision. Barrett was there, still unmoved from where she'd released him, hunched against the rain with a snarl decorating his face. He met her gaze unashamed as she stared at him, trying to find a way to ask him _why_. Had she been that bad to him? Was he that desperate to get away from her? Just because they'd gotten off to a rocky start, was he so eager to see her disappear?

In the end, silence won out. She trudged wordlessly over to his Pokéball and picked it up, recalling him in a slow, listless motion. The ball shrank, and she clasped it back to her belt, letting her hand linger there before finally falling limp at her side.

Howie had stopped rambling. She turned back to him, but kept her eyes stubbornly fixed on the ground. She didn't want to see the look on his face, whether it was pity, or disgust, or something worse. He didn't know what it felt like, to have his own Pokémon abandon him like this. He wouldn't understand.

Another scream split the air—not hers, this time. Hayley snapped her head up, swiveling towards the direction it had come from. Miriam.

The night wasn't over yet.

* * *

It was easier to move now without branches and roots grabbing at her, but the trees were still clustered erratically, groups of six or ten pushed unnaturally close to form walls and dead ends. Hayley's legs felt like they were strapped down with lead; her strides were sloppy and uneven as she pushed herself forward. Howie was a few paces ahead, his lantern seeking out a path between the barricades of trees and bushes, and she strained to keep up with him. Her burning chest and legs begged her to tell him to slow down, but another scream in the distance clamped her mouth firmly shut. The thought of Miriam and Gavin lying dead and torn apart on the forest floor was enough to flood out the pain and force her to eke just a little more life out of her exhausted body. She had to keep going. Just a little further. Just a few more steps…

With a final push, she burst into another clearing. There! Gavin was standing near the far edge, huddled and trembling in his poncho. Miriam was behind him, backed flat against a tree like she was trying to meld into it. At a glance, neither of them looked hurt, aside from the panic and mud. It was what they were backing away from that made Hayley's stomach plummet.

Even hunched over, it stood nearly up to her chest. It was apelike in form and covered in coarse white fur that stuck out everywhere, matted with rain and mud and dried bits of gore. It swiveled to face her as she entered. Bulging, manic eyes sought her out from beneath a prominent red crest, seeming to twitch to and fro even as they locked on to her. Rows of thick, corded muscle bulged from underneath its fur, and its broad arms and legs ended in vicious, red-stained claws, each one as long as her finger and wide as a steak knife. Its chest moved rapidly in and out as it sized her up, stared her down. Then it lifted its head high, pounded its chest, and gave a long, ear-splitting shriek.

Howie reacted first. Before she could even blink, he'd drawn his Pokéball and tossed it into the space between them. Ramona's blue eyes narrowed as she took in the Vigoroth, huge and angry and probably more deadly than anything she'd faced so far. She was clearly outmatched, but she didn't flinch, only planted her legs into the muddy ground and raised her head with a mighty bellow.

"Mona, defend! Basil, seed it!" Hayley had only a moment to wonder who the second command was for before Gavin's Shroomish hopped into sight, shaking his frills with a signature scowl. The Vigoroth howled again and charged forward, closing in on the Aron with a single bound. It pinwheeled one arm forward and slammed its forearm into her faceplate, landing the blow with a resounding clang. The impact drove Ramona several inches back in the mud, and Howie and Hayley both flinched. But rather than press the attack, the Vigoroth dropped back, shrieking with pain and fury. The arm it had used for the attack hung feebly at its side, twisted at an odd angle. Ramona growled defiantly, but her eyes were unfocused, and she swayed slightly as she pushed herself back upright. She couldn't take a hit like that again.

Meanwhile, Basil was lazily eyeing the Vigoroth, offering the oversized ape the unconcerned stare one might give a begging Skitty. Slowly, he tipped forward, a seed beginning to sprout from the opening on top of his bulbous head. The Shroomish puffed, and the seed shot forward in a gentle arc, hitting its mark in the Vigoroth's back. The Vigoroth screeched, more out of anger than pain, as the seed cracked open, sprouting tendrils that crawled along the ape's fur. There was a soft green glow as the plant siphoned the Vigoroth's energy away, carrying it on gossamer threads back to the Shroomish. Basil churred quietly as the light flowed into him, filling him with renewed vigor.

But it didn't last. The Vigoroth reached around with its uninjured arm and seized the implanted seed between its claws, tearing it out and severing the connection. It wheeled around and half-hooted, half-shrieked as it saw the smug Shroomish dipping his head for another attack. It lunged forward, stumbling slightly as it landed on its injured arm, and barreled into Basil with a swipe of its deadly claws. Basil tried to hop to the side, but the attack was too broad, and the Vigoroth's claws caught him right across the face. The force of the blow sent him tumbling backwards, his rounded body rolling until it smacked against a tree and stopped. He didn't get up again. The Vigoroth leapt in, claws splayed and ready for the kill. Gavin suddenly burst to life, screaming Basil's name and diving forward to grab him out of the way. But he couldn't move fast enough, and they both reached the motionless Shroomish at the same time. The Vigoroth struck just as Gavin wrapped his arms around his fallen Pokémon, and there was another scream and a sickening crack of bone as the blow snapped Gavin's arm.

Hayley's breathing was shallow; her head was swimming. It was like she was being suffocated all over again. This wasn't happening… She wasn't here, stuck in the forest two days into her journey and about to get torn apart by a wild Pokémon. She hugged her arms across her chest, nails digging into the skin above her elbows. There had to be a way to get out, make it all go away; if she tried, she could wake up…

She was dimly aware of Howie shouting more orders, of Ramona stumbling forward and clumsily ramming into the Vigoroth. Howie ran around the Gavin, pulling him to his feet and returning the unconscious Shroomish to its ball. Claws scraped against steel as the Vigoroth launched another frenzied assault, pushing Ramona back with each blow. Howie's glance turned to Hayley, his eyes almost as wild as the Vigoroth's, and she knew then that there was nothing more he could do. Howie, the tireless planner with an answer to every problem, was out of ideas. Basil was down, Gavin was in tears and cradling his broken arm, Ramona was about to collapse, and Miriam was too scared to move.

And Barrett…

A metallic squeal cut through her fugue as Ramona finally crumpled under the Vigoroth's onslaught. Howie had his Pokéball out in a flash, returning her just before the ape could land a final blow. He took a resigned step back, reaching for his knife—but the Vigoroth had other ideas. It swiveled around and changed course again, this time lunging straight at Miriam.

Miriam snapped out of her paralysis and shrieked, scrambling back for the cover of the trees. But she'd only made it a few steps when she fell forwards with a crash, tumbling out of sight.

Dammit! Something clicked in Hayley. Miriam was her _partner_. She couldn't just let her die.

She dashed around the clearing to reach her, staying clear of the Vigoroth. Swinging her flashlight around, she saw that the hill had given way in the rain, and Miriam had fallen down to the muddy ground at the bottom. Hayley slid down a mostly-intact part of the slope in a hurried shuffle and landed next to her. "Hey—Miriam. Can you get up?"

Miriam just shook her head, curling her legs into her chest with a choked sort of whimper. "I didn't even want to do this," she croaked. Lightning flashed, and the silhouette of the Vigoroth appeared at the top of the hill. Miriam's eyes tracked it, wide and glassy with fear. "I didn't want to do any of this, and now I'm going to die, all because of some stupid, stupid ape. It's not fair." She went silent and hugged her knees tighter as the Vigoroth howled again. There was another burst of lightning, and Hayley caught sight of something glinting in the mud. Something red and white—a Pokéball. It must have been Miriam's.

Hayley glanced back at Miriam, who was still balled up and muttering and cursing softly to herself, and she made a split-second decision. As the Vigoroth leapt, she grabbed the ball and threw it, praying to whatever gods that it would be something that could get them out of this. The ball exploded with artificial light that momentarily blinded all of them. From it came the form of something round, almost pill-shaped, with pendulous arms and tiny legs and a pair of vertical horns on its head. Its yellow fur seemed to glow slightly in the darkness of the woods, and it crackled and popped with tiny sparks as the raindrops hit it. It swung itself around, confused, as it took in the forest, the rain, and finally its trainer lying on the ground.

"Elekid!" Hayley shouted reflexively, and it glanced at her for an instant before a swipe from the Vigoroth knocked it off its feet. It rolled a few times on the sloped ground, but then caught itself with one oversized arm and pushed itself back up. Blue sparks snapped between its horns as it turned to face down its opponent. It froze upon seeing the giant Vigoroth that stared it down; beady eyes widening, it took an uncertain step back.

Crap. How did Elekid work again? This one looked pretty green; it probably hadn't ever been in a battle before. The Vigoroth lurched towards it again, and the Elekid just stood there. "Dodge!" Hayley called. Miraculously, the Elekid sprang to life at her order, dropping to its side and barely rolling out of the way. It understood her, then. "Elekid, you need to hit it with a big shock! Can you do that?"

"Beh!" The Elekid pushed itself back to its feet and shouted in affirmation. It began swinging its arms back and forth, then around in circles like a pitcher at the plate. The spark between its horns grew larger and brighter until it finally leapt free, arcing by the Vigoroth as it came by for a third pass—but the shot went wide, missing the ape completely, and the Elekid barely managed to hop out of the way of the vicious claws. Hayley clenched her fists and briefly cast her glance up at the sky, every cell in her body screaming in desperation. "Please! You have to hit it!" It was unfair, pinning all their hope for survival on this one little Elekid, forcing it to face off against a deadly opponent in a battle it had no business fighting, but—

Lightning struck again, closer this time. The Elekid's damp fur sparked and sizzled, and it turned again to peer at Miriam and Hayley. Howie had appeared at the top of the hill, clinging to the trunk of a tree as he stared down at them. The Elekid looked at them all in turn, and then narrowed its eyes. It swung its arms again, faster now, and cried out to the battered Vigoroth as the ape moved in for the kill. This time, the Elekid didn't jump out of the way. It planted its feet and lowered its head, and just as the Vigoroth swung, it plunged its sparking horns against the ape's heaving chest.

The effect was instantaneous. The Vigoroth, soaked from the rainfall, shrieked in pain as electric arcs leapt around its body, sending it into jerking spasms. The force of the collision knocked the Elekid backwards, where it went rolling into a tree and fell still. But its job was done. With a final, shuddering scream, the Vigoroth collapsed onto the ground. They all watched it with bated breath, but it stayed down, motionless aside from the twitching of its limbs and the slowing rise and fall of its chest.

"You did it." Howie had slid down next to her to her and was surveying the scene, eyes wide. His voice was soft, like he still couldn't quite believe what had happened. "Miriam, is that your Pokémon? Why didn't you let it out before?"

"I didn't… Didn't think…" Miriam was still collecting herself, sitting up slowly and brushing her soaked, muddy hair away from her face. Her voice was quavering, but even as Hayley watched, she set her jaw and narrowed her eyes, struggling to put back a mask of annoyed indifference. "It shouldn't—what are you _doing?_ " Howie had pulled a blue-and-white Great Ball from a side pocket of his backpack. As they watched, he stepped over to the Vigoroth, dropping the ball onto its unconscious form. There was a pop and a flash as the Vigoroth dematerialized into red light and was sucked inside. The ball snapped shut and shook one, two, three times, before the capture lock took and the ball fell still with a ping. For a moment, they all stared at it in silence.

Hayley spoke first. "You're not… actually keeping that, are you?" She'd thought Barrett was bad, but if Howie tried to give that Vigoroth orders, it would probably tear his face off. Thankfully, Howie shook his head.

"No. But we can't leave it here." He retrieved the ball from the ground, wiping some mud off of it with his thumb. "It's too strong to be in this part of the forest—if it stays, it'll keep going after new trainers. I'll contact the rangers when we get out of here and hand it over to them."

Thank Arceus for the rangers. Though, come to think of it—what had they been doing? Wasn't their job to keep this sort of thing from happening? She shook her head, and suddenly realized she was still holding the Elekid's Pokéball. Slowly, she walked over to the fallen Pokémon, praying that it hadn't been too badly hurt. She laid a hand on its head, and it stirred slightly at her touch. Good—it was alive, at least. "You did really well," Hayley said, giving it the widest smile she could muster after everything that had happened that night. "Thank you so much." She clicked the button to recall it, and the Elekid's form vanished inside. As the ball clicked shut, she held it close and whispered to the Pokémon sleeping inside. "I promise I'll make Miriam take good care of you."

With the battle done, the three of them stumbled back up the ledge. The rain was falling slower now, and in the grove, Gavin was waiting. His eyes widened as he caught sight of them, disbelief temporarily washing away the pain on his face. Howie nodded to him silently, then pulled out his Pokégear, studied the screen, and pointed off in an unknown direction. Without a word, they went forth, filing back into the clusters of trees and brush.

And then, finally, all was silent within Petalburg Woods.


	9. Albatross

The sun was starting to rise by the time the four of them broke through the treeline and into an open green field. Despite everything, they'd made good time; none of them had wanted to stay in the forest a single minute longer than they had to. But they'd paid for it. Miriam looked dead on her feet, and Gavin's arm was swollen and starting to discolor despite the makeshift sling Howie had made for it. Hayley's legs shuddered under her with each step, her cuts and scratches twinging with each flex. Howie was in the best shape of any of them, and even he was starting to flag, the arm that held his Pokégear drooping down and his blinks turning slow and owlish behind his thick glasses. Thankfully, it wasn't much longer before they spotted the red-colored roof of a rest station in the distance.

The outposts were littered throughout Hoenn, serving as a place for trainers to rest and recover in areas that were too remote to have a manned Pokémon center. The building was tiny, Hayley thought as they pushed through the door, and it looked even smaller on the inside: it was maybe the size of a small apartment, furnished only with a kitchenette, a pair of cots, an automated healing machine, and a cramped bathroom hidden off to the side. Still, it was four walls and a roof, and none of them could turn up their nose at electricity and running water after roughing it for days in the wild.

Each of them dropped their Pokéballs into one of the six slots of the machine, except for Miriam, who beelined for the bathroom and practically slammed the door behind her. The sound of the shower running filled the silence as the rest of them dropped their bags and settled onto the cots. Gavin and Howie sat on one, while Hayley perched on another.

"Um, yeah." Howie was on the phone with emergency services, nodding along invisibly to the person on the other end. "Yeah, that should be fine. Thanks." Another nod. "Thanks." With that, he pulled the phone away from his ear, tapping a button to end the call. He turned to Gavin, who was still ghost-faced and silent beside him. "They said they could be here in a couple hours. You okay with that?" Gavin nodded mutely. He hadn't spoken a word since the Vigoroth attack. And it seemed his silence was contagious, as the rest of them lapsed back in to quiet solitude, each staring at the ground.

"You're still having trouble with Barrett?" Howie's sudden question cut through the air, making Hayley's head jerk up.

"I guess—yeah." Shame reignited in the pit of her stomach, filling her body with a sick heat. "I thought I had it for a while, but… I think he just hates me." The words felt different than when she'd admitted the same thing to Connie nearly a week ago. Back then—and it felt so long ago—she hadn't really believed it. He _couldn't_ hate her. Maybe he didn't like her, maybe he didn't want to follow orders, but he was probably just free-spirited. Somewhere inside, she'd held on to the notion that when she really needed him, they'd put aside their differences and work together. Now, that same hope felt so stupid.

"He doesn't respect you." She flinched at the blunt answer, but she knew it was the truth. "He doesn't want to fight for you because he doesn't see you as his trainer—just someone who happened to end up with his Pokéball. Traded Pokémon can be that way."

"Well, how am I supposed to make him respect me?" Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. After all that had happened, _this_ wasn't going to be what made her cry.

"Usually, you need to make him see that you're worth listening to," he said. "You know—show him that you know what you're doing, and that he's stronger with you than without." He paused, and then sighed, dropping his eyes. "Sometimes, though—if that's not enough—you need to show them that you're the boss."

She glanced back up at him, questioning. He continued. "My dad's Mightyena… He caught her wild, and she didn't listen to him at all. She was crazy, and just attacked him and anyone else who came near her. For a while he thought she was untrainable, but he finally got through to her by proving himself as her alpha. It was a lot of discipline, yelling, physical shows of force. And it was messy, but eventually… she came around."

Hayley's stomach twisted at the thought. He was telling her to _fight_ Barrett? She'd already tried threatening him, telling him she'd lock him away in his ball if he kept trying to maim wild Pokémon—but it hadn't made him like her any more. In fact, it had probably made things worse. She didn't want that to be their relationship; she didn't want to be constantly yelling at him, struggling to get him to do every little thing. She wanted him to like her, not just obey her. She wasn't his drill sergeant, or his jailer—she was his trainer. His friend. Her fingers dug into the scratches on her arms. "I don't want to—"

"You might not have a choice." His eyes, now hard and serious, met hers again. "If he doesn't learn to listen to you, one way or another, he's just going to get worse. You need to do something to get him under control. _Now_ , before he gets strong enough to really hurt someone."

"I know." By now, Hayley's voice was a hoarse whisper. She did know—she didn't want to think about it, but they'd both seen the news. Terrifyingly strong, poorly trained Pokémon deciding they'd had enough, turning on their trainers and anyone else nearby… It was rare, but it happened, and when it did, not everybody got out alive.

The fog of silence sank back over them, and they went back to staring at the floor for an indeterminate amount of time. Eventually, the bathroom door swung open and Miriam emerged in a cloud of steam. She looked almost herself again, her hair and face clean of mud and her glasses set level on her nose, but the scratches along her legs stood red and angry against the pinkish skin. "Shower's open," she announced, retreating to the far corner of the room and dragging her grimy backpack along the floor behind her. Howie shrugged before glancing at Hayley and Gavin meaningfully and entering the bathroom himself.

Gavin still hadn't said a word. Between him and Miriam, the air in the room grew thick and awkward, and the silence was overpowering. Hayley, never great at keeping up conversation, wracked her mind for something to say.

She finally settled for gesturing at Gavin's arm. "Does—does it still hurt?" Okay, _fantastic_ start. She wanted to groan and kick herself simultaneously as Gavin lifted his head and gave her a blank stare. "It's probably not that bad of a break," she babbled on. "Get a cast on it, and you'll probably be good to travel again before the end of the summer—"

"No." The single word rang out, raspy and low, and it shocked Hayley into silence. She opened her mouth to question him, and he shook his head—softly at first, then with more force. "I'm not going back—back out there. I'm going to go home."

What? But… She fumbled for a response. "Gavin, this was just… You can't give up on training already. You need—"

"No." His voice was louder this time. "We all almost died, our Pokémon almost died, and I don't want to do this anymore. I'm going home."

His words sent a chill up her back. Death… She glanced down again, running a finger over the scratches on her arms and legs. Under the bright fluorescent light, they burned an angry red, with dark splinters of bark and wood peppering them throughout. Her fate had seemed so certain in the heat of the moment, but now, she struggled to understand. The events of last night already felt like a dream, slipping away faster the tighter she tried to clutch them. Murderous trees, a rabid Vigoroth—they were like scenes out of someone else's life. The mud that covered her shirt and shorts, now dry and flaking onto the white sheets of the cot, the deeper cut on her calf that throbbed in time with her heart, the rakes and scratches across her arms and legs—all of them told her that this had really happened, but somewhere inside her, she couldn't quite believe it. She wasn't the one who'd nearly died in the forest; it was an illusion, a figment, a story, and now that it was over, everything was going to go on just as before.

She…

A yelp and a thud from the bathroom snapped Hayley back to reality. "There's no more hot water!" Howie's voice was as anguished as she'd ever heard it, as though _this_ was the worst twist of fate in their entire trip. Hayley glanced over at Miriam for an explanation. The other girl just folded her arms, flicked her wet hair over her shoulder, and scoffed.

* * *

At some point, Hayley fell asleep. She wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but when she opened her eyes, the blinding midday sunlight greeted her from the window. She pushed herself off the pillow and groaned softly, feeling grosser than she ever had before. Dried dirt tugged at her skin, cracking as she moved, and her hair fell over her eyes in greasy, tangled clumps. She hadn't even taken her boots off. Ick.

As she rubbed the grit and sleep out of her eyes, she saw that Howie and Gavin were gone. It was just her and Miriam in the room. Miriam was still camped out in the corner, head bent over her phone. Both the phone and her Gameboy were plugged into the wall socket, charging up. She didn't look up as Hayley stood, stretching her back with a satisfying crack.

"What time is it?" Miriam didn't answer. Frowning, Hayley stepped closer. She realized that Miriam's eyes were closed, and that the hand holding her phone had gone slack. She'd fallen asleep, too.

Well, she might as well use the time she had to herself. Hayley grabbed her backpack and stepped into the bathroom, wasting no time in turning on the shower. The water was lukewarm, but still relaxing as it streamed over her body, washing away mud and blood along with the last images of the previous night. Hayley sighed and closed her eyes as her muscles loosened and her mind drifted away. In that moment, it was easy to pretend that everything was fine, that the past week had just been a lie. She was together with Connie and her prized Torchic, achieving her dreams the way she'd always pictured. No Barrett or Miriam to contend with, no near-death experiences in the woods. It was all so close, and so comforting…

But it couldn't last. The water turned cold, and Hayley shut it off, drying herself with a damp towel. Clean clothes, at least, made her feel a little better, though she was on her last set; she'd have to do laundry once she hit the Rustboro Pokémon Center. She wound her Pokéball belt around her capris and fastened it tightly, then got her things together and stepped out of the room.

The green light on the healing machine was on, indicating that it was done. Barrett's Pokéball was the only one left on it. She grabbed it and snapped it onto the first slot on her belt without giving it a second look. Barrett… Her stomach turned. She couldn't deal with him right now. She'd do it later. Crossing over to the other side of the room, she reached out and nudged Miriam with her socked foot. Once, twice, three times. On the fourth, Miriam stirred, cracking her eyes open and groaning.

"We need to get going," Hayley told her.

"Already?" Miriam's voice was thick with sleep. "We just got here."

"Yeah, but we have to keep moving if we want to reach Rustboro City by tomorrow morning." The blank stare on Miriam's face asked Hayley, in no uncertain terms, why she should care about that. "Wouldn't you rather be in the city than out here?" she tried. "We could stay at an actual Pokémon Center. They have… food, and stuff."

Miriam groaned, but yanked her chargers out from the wall anyway. "Fine," she muttered, stuffing the cords into her bag. "But once we get to Rustboro, that's it. I'm not going _anywhere_ else."

Hayley gave her a curious look, but quickly pushed it aside, busying herself with tying up her boots and re-shouldering her bag. When the two of them stepped through the door, a warm breeze played across Hayley's face, tugging at her newly clean hair. She inhaled deeply, and sighed. The air was the kind of clean that could only be achieved after a storm, and the grassy plain ahead was green and inviting. The Petalburg Woods still loomed to the south, though, looking shadowy and twisted even in the daylight. Hayley shuddered, deciding that she wasn't going to go back there for a good, long time.

"You should let your Elekid out," Hayley said as they walked along the dirt footpath, cresting over a small hill. "It's a nice day."

Miriam just grunted. "I don't want to."

Normally, Hayley would have just left it there, but today curiosity gnawed at her. She'd seen Miriam's Pokémon; it wasn't something embarrassing like a Zubat, or nasty like a Grimer. It was an Elekid, and in fact, it had saved all of their lives. And after that, Miriam still didn't even want to look at it?

Hayley couldn't take it any longer. She bit her tongue and addressed the Donphan in the room. "Miriam, why are you even doing this? You don't like traveling, and you don't like Pokémon. It just seems… weird, that you'd be out here."

Miriam huffed, and Hayley expected that to be the end of it—but for once, to her surprise, there was more. "My mom's making me do it," she grumbled, eyes fixed down on the dirt.

Hayley thought back to the soft, slight woman she'd met back at Miriam's house, and her eyebrows rose up towards her hair. Miriam's mother didn't seem the type to force anyone to do _anything_. "Why?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Dunno."

"Couldn't you tell her you didn't want to go?"

"I _did_ ," Miriam grouched, folding her arms. "I told her I wasn't doing it. But then she got me that little asshole Pokémon, and it fried my laptop, and she told me she'd only get me a new one if I did this shit for three months. It's basically extortion."

Huh. Normally, it was the kid who had to convince their parents to let them go, not the other way around—if their child decided they _didn't_ want to risk life and limb traveling around the world and collecting badges, well, most parents would consider that to be good news. "She must have had a reason," Hayley tried.

"Crap reasons. I don't know what she thinks this is going to do besides get me killed." Suddenly, her face brightened, the ghost of a smile flitting across her thin lips. "Actually, you know what…?"

Hayley watched as Miriam fished her phone out of her pocket and tapped away at the screen. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Calling my mom." Oh, that was… nice? "I'm going to tell her how this stupid plan of hers almost made me die. _Then_ she'll see just how stupid—hey!" Before she could finish, Hayley had bounded over to her side, snatching the phone out of her hand. "What the hell?"

"Don't tell her." Miriam grabbed for the phone, but Hayley held it up out of reach. She had a couple of inches on Miriam, and she used it to her full advantage, stretching all the way up on her toes.

"That's my phone. Give it back—"

"If you tell your mom, then your mom is going to tell my mom, and then my mom is going to make me come home." It all came out in one breathless spurt. Hayley knew how parents' minds worked; sure, her mother had been supportive when she'd left, but getting mauled by a Vigoroth her first week out was more than anyone had planned for. It was enough to make anyone reconsider, and Hayley could hear her voice already. _"I just don't think it's safe…"_

"I don't care," Miriam snapped. "Give—"

"Just—just wait until I beat Roxanne, okay?" Hayley was grasping at straws, desperate for any deal she could make. "It shouldn't take me too long, and once I have a badge… I can show her that I'm strong enough to stay out here. Even if she wants me to come home." Miriam's eyes narrowed, her face unconvinced. "Please? It's just a little while…"

"Hello? Miri? Are you there?" A voice called through the phone, soft and tinny from the speakers. Miriam reached for it again, and Hayley reluctantly let her snatch it out of her hand. She'd done all she could do.

"Yeah, I'm here." Miriam stepped away with the phone so that Hayley couldn't hear the other end of the line. A pause. "How's it…? Well, it sucks. I'm still stuck on this fucking route." Pause. "No." Another pause, longer this time. "Yeah, no, I'm not doing that. Look, I've got to go, okay? My phone's almost dead." Miriam began to pull the phone away from her ear, but froze as more unintelligible words crackled through the speakers. Her face twitched, caught somewhere between a scowl and something else. "Uh-huh. Bye." She tapped the button to end the call, and then glanced back at Hayley.

"You owe me. Big time."

Hayley nodded mutely, her whole body sagging in relief. She couldn't make Miriam understand, but… this journey was everything to her. She couldn't go home. Not now.

They fell back into silence as they trudged along the route, Miriam's toes kicking up dirt along the way. It was a few minutes before Hayley tried again.

"Still… You should let your Elekid out. It's not good to leave your Pokémon in their balls all the time."

Miriam snorted. "I told you, I'm not doing that."

"You can't just keep it in its ball forever," she persisted. "You'll get fined for neglect."

That got Miriam's attention. Behind her glasses, her dark eyes sharpened. "Nuh-uh. You're making that up."

"No I'm not. They went over it in class." It was one of the changes the League had made after the Plasma incident in Unova. Trainers were being encouraged to keep smaller teams, and to rotate them regularly so that each Pokémon could get fresh air and exercise. If a trainer kept any Pokémon locked in stasis for too long, they could come under investigation. Sure, a few _days_ wouldn't do it, but… "I just think it would be good to—"

"If it's so important to keep Pokémon out of their balls, then why don't you let yours out?" Hayley's mouth snapped open and shut, but no sound came out. It was true; she hadn't released Barrett since last night. But… that was different.

She was putting off a very awkward conversation.

* * *

It was when they broke for lunch that she finally did it. While Miriam pulled out her Gameboy and sat under the shade of a stray tree, Hayley walked some distance away. Once Miriam and the tree had disappeared behind a hill, she pulled out Barrett's Pokéball, sighed, and tossed it to the ground.

The Magby appeared in the usual flash of light. When he saw Hayley standing there, he snorted, a few sparks and a puff of smoke escaping from his beak. Hayley crouched down to his level and frowned, keeping her face as calm as she could muster.

"You want to tell me what that was all about?"

Barrett cocked his head, meeting her gaze with a level stare. "Don't play dumb," she said. "You know what I'm talking about." Barrett huffed, sending out a few more embers that drifted down and burned away on the grass. Then, as though deciding she wasn't worth his time, he broke eye contact and began to turn around. "Hey!" She grabbed the Magby by his shoulder, spinning him back around to face her. Barrett hissed, his scales beginning to glow like stoked coals. Hayley felt her palm and fingers start to sear, but she held on. "Look at me," she snapped, and he did, pure venom shining in his slitted eyes. "I _needed_ you back there. I know you don't like me, but—you're my Pokémon, Barrett. We're supposed to be a team. When are you going to start acting like it?"

They stared at each other in silence as the blisters on Hayley's fingers grew thick and hot. Finally, Barrett grunted and shrugged out from under her hand, glancing away with an unmistakable roll of his eyes. That was it. "Dammit, listen to me!"

She didn't feel herself move. For a moment, she didn't feel _anything_. But then suddenly the back of her hand was stinging, and Barrett was on the ground. He turned up his head and looked at her, really _looked_ at her with wide, shocked eyes, raising his good arm to feel along the side of his face.

Hayley's breath caught in her throat as she realized what she'd just done.

"Barrett—return." Her voice cracked as she held up his ball, dematerializing the stunned Magby into a cloud of red light. Once he was gone, Hayley fell back onto the grass, stared up into the sky, and panicked.

Oh god, oh god. What had she… She knew what she'd done. She'd hit her Pokémon, her baby Pokémon, her partner, her _responsibility_. Her chest tightened with a physical pain. It was the one thing you were never, ever supposed to do—you were supposed to raise them with patience, with love, and she'd sworn on all her exams and forms that she'd treat them like members of her own family. She was a liar—an _abuser_ , she thought, tears springing to her eyes. They'd take Barrett away, they'd take her license away, and even if they didn't, Barrett would hate her forever.

This was why she hadn't passed the Birch exam, she realized. They'd seen it in her, known she was bad. Set up for failure from the very start. And they were right—she'd ruined everything.

For the first time in forever, she curled her legs up to her chest, rested her chin on her knees, and cried.


End file.
